
Qass ^tLLQM — 

Book ^^ \ -' - • 



%' 



CHILDE HARVARD; 



ROMANCE OF CAMBRIDGE 



BY 

SENOR ALGUNO. 



Imagination; honorable aims; 
Free commune with the choir that cannot die ; 
Science and song ; delight in little things ; 
The buoyant child surviving in the man. 

S. T. Coleridge. 



BOSTON: 
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 



1848 






l^i^e 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1848, by 

H. P. Carlton, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massacliusetts. 






DEDICATION 



Not with the vain hope of adding any new glory to those, who 
already stand high on the summit of the Popocatapetl of North 
American literature ; not to forestall any favorable review, which 
he may not merit ; not to deprecate any sarcastic criticisms, which 
every work deserves that is not perfect ; — but simply to testify 
his unfeigned respect and admiration of those men, who have 
justly rendered classic ground, the world over, the scenes which 
the following Poem describes ; — 

IT IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
TO THE 

EDITOR OF THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW 

AND HIS ILLUSTRIOUS COADJUTORS ; 
SECONDLY — TO THE 

MEMBERS OF THE CLASS OF 1848, 
OF THE UNIVERSITY AT CAMBRIDGE, 

IN WHOSE GRADUATING YEAR THE CHILDE WAS BORN; 
AND, THIRDLY — TO 

CHILDE HARVARD HIMSELF; 

By the Author, 

SENOR ALGUNO. 



PRELUDE 



OHUSHMYCHILD. 

The shades of night had fallen fast, 
As through the Cambridge streets there past 
A maiden, with a basket swung 
Upon her arm ; but still she sung, 
Ohushmychild ! 

Her brow was sad ; her eye beneath 
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath. 
And, like a whispering angel's, rung 
The accents of that unknown tongue, 
Ohushmychild ! 



PRELUDE. 

In Harvard halls she saw the light 
Of students' chambers glimmering bright ; 
Onward she pressed through dew and dust, 
Still whispering to her helpless trust, 
Ohushmychild ! 

" Try not the pass ! " the watchman said ; 
*' Bright stars are gazing overhead, 
Dark Charles's torrent is deep and wide ! " 
And low that whispering voice replied, 
Ohushmychild ! 

"O, stay," the Goody said, ** and rest 
Thy weary head upon this breast ! " 
A tear stood in her bright blue eye, 
But still she answered with a sigh, 
Ohiishmychild ! 

" Beware the Proctor's watchful eye ! 
Beware the awful Faculty ! " 

This was "Ma'am D 's" last good-night; 

A voice replied, far out of sight, 
Ohushmychild ! 



PRELUDE. 

The ghost of Harvard on the blast 
Wailed as the mournful maiden passed ; 
The church bell sounded ; with a jump 
She whispered, hastening to the pump, 
Ohiishmychild ! 

There, in the cold and silent shade, 
Her weeping load she weeping laid ; 
But, ere she went, she kissed the child. 
And murmured low, in accents wild, 
Ohushmychild ! 

Again she turned, and bending o'er 
The babe, she kissed it as before ; 
But when a footstep sounded far, 
Her voice fell like a falling star, 
Ohushmychild ! 



CHILDE HARVARD 



ROMANCE OP CAMBRIDGE. 



CANTO I. 

" When the deserted babe is left to lie, 
Far from the woful mother's lost caress, 
Under the broad cope of the solemn sky." 

Mrs. Norton's " New-born Child." 

" Childe (Harvard) was he bight ; but whence his name 
And lineage long? * * * * 
Suffice it, that perchance they were of fame, 
And had been glorious in another day ; 
But one sad losel soils a name for aye." 

Bi'RON's "Childe Harold." 



I. 

Nancy, 't is true, was a voluptuous girl : 

It proved her ruin, (though perhaps 't were better 

Not to have told of it, before the whirl 

Of love's begiddying maelstrom slowly let her 

Down to destruction, and " the gentle reader" 

Into the marvellous secret ; yet to have freed her. 



10 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 

II. 

At first, from all surmisings, is, I fancy, — 

And even herself would willingly confess it, — 

The very fairest way to treat frail Nancy : 

Besides, a tale, that all good men may bless it. 

Should have a moral end ; this tale of mine 

Has such, and written in the second line ; 

III. 

It proved her ruin.) How this came to pass. 
Attended by what wonderous circumstances, 

How the great secret was divulged, alas ! 

And how Childe Harvard, left to take his chances. 

Screamed under the college pump, I sing. — Beware, 

Maidens, of students, as you would a bear ! 

IV. 

Heaven forbid that I should insinuate 

Any thing that 's at all derogatory 
To any of the Students of the great 

" University at Cambridge ! " No ! her glory 
Shines like a constellation off Cape Hope, 
Seen through the Observatory telescope. 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 11 

V. 

(Which telescope the Faculty have voted 

That every student, before he graduate, 
May look through once, two minutes being devoted 

To each ; wherein, 't is said, they speculate, 
On all the stary host, excepting Venus, 
Which star they deem ruled by an evil genius.)* 

VI. 

I said, beware of Students ! not pretending. 

Dear girls, that there is any the least connection 

Between them and this tragedy's mournful ending : 
No, never ! — With what virtuous circumspection 

They walk, (no less from love than self-restraint,) 

Demands an Everett's classic brush to paint, 

VIT. 

Not mine. But I advise you not so much for 
Your sakes — and yet I would not hurt you, no, 

Not for the world, nor all that misers clutch, nor 
Bury in vaults, nor spoils of Mexico, 

When Polk victorious, like an ocean billow, 

Returns, — ** Scott-free " — with volunteers and Pillow — 



12 CIllLDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

YIII. 

But girls, beware of them for their own sakes. — 
(And can I urge a stronger argument?) — 

Oh ! if you only knew, what fools it makes 

Of students, when their thoughts have once been bent 

On you — that is, when you have caught them by 

" Bishops,", words, smiles, and a galvanic eye — 

IX. 

And all those other charms, you girls know how to 

Display with such a marvellous effect, 
That, should the luckless student only bow to 

You, as you sail along the street direct- 
Ly by him, bowing back in turn and blushing, 
It sends the blood through every artery gushing 

X. 

Up to his brain ; where, like delirium tremens, 

It sets the thoughts in eddying whirlpools whirling ! 

Homeward he rushes, and the strength of three men's 
Arms could not hold him, for the imaged girl in 

His eye, stamped on the retina, stays there still, 

Like the sun's image, contrary to his will, 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 13 

XI. 

And drives him mad. Now, girls, in that condition, 
You must know, 'tis impossible to pursue 

His studies : even to save him from perdition 

He cannot get " the advance," forgets " the review," 

And wails in righteous indignation then ; 

"0/i .' curse of woman on her fellow-men ! " 

XIT. 

Nor is this all. Wh^n that delirium passes 
Away, exhaustion follows, and a Zassitude, 

(This word was probably derived from lasses,) 
And on his sofa he takes recumbent attitude, 

And gently falls asleep, wasting his time 

In effeminate dreams, voluptuous and sublime. 

XIII. 

Perhaps it may not be amiss ; (it was though 
A miss, I dreamed about, mysterious as it 

May seem to those who know me) it will also 

Make " the world better " — as the good man has it — 

" For our having lived," and so forth, if we clearly 

Relate a dream ; 't will please the ladies dearly : — 



14 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

XIV. 

Well, then, when I was an under-graduate, 

(For I was young once ; all old people have been,) 

Studying at a University in the State 

Of Massachusetts, (that word 's like a spavin 

To any sort of feet ; it spoils a verse's, 

Hissing, as when a tailor his '' goose" immerses ;) 

XV. 

*' I had a dream, which was not all a dream ; 

'T was partly real and partly 't was a vision ; 
Or't may be, — since " things are not as they seem," — 

That my freed spirit stalked through fields Elysian, 
While tliis my body slept; as Paul was " caught up 
To the third Heavens," (but how he never thought up,) 

XVI. 

" And heard unspeakable things ; " and therefore never 
Spoke them to men : perhaps the dialect 

Of angels somewhat puzzled the old Hebrew, — clever 
Although he was, — so that he could 'nt detect 

Their meaning. — My dream was of angels, though 

One fallen, the other born down here — below : 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 15 

XVII. 

That is ; one of them was a student (and they, 
Of course, are "devils! young devils;" now devils surely 

Are angels fallen, which proves as clear as day, 
That this point is forever fixed securely ; 

One was an angel) the other was a creature 

Of most angelic form and heavenly feature : 

XVIII. 

Men call such, angels, houris, diamonds, flowers ; 

In fine, they call them almost every thing. 
That dwells on earth, or in the fancied bowers 

Of bliss ; that walks, that soars on bird-like wing 
In air or ether, or cleaves the crystal waters — 
I call them simply Eve's and Adam's daughters, 

XIX. 

Angels of Earth ; and, when I please to flatter. 
Sometimes I tell them that they look like me ; 

Which tickles them so, that they begin to scatter 
Praises and compliments; "Oh ! yes, you be 

A perfect Apollo ! splendid ! no mistake ! " — 

And think ; " what a glorious husband he would make ! " 



16 CHILDE HARVARD, [cANTO I. 

XX. 

'Tis strange how I can read the thoughts of people, — 
And more especially the thoughts of lasses : — 

I never pretend to ; no — but when a steeple 
Towers up above the trees, it needs no glasses 

To guess that there is a meeting-house below 

Long ere we see the people come, or go. 

XXI. 

I never intended to compare, of course. 

Ladies to steeples, nor to meeting-houses, — 

And yet they are a most attractive force 
Church-ward, when young and not yet turned to spouses : 

Earth-angel-peacocks, they one day in seven 

Draw wayward souls into the road to Heaven ! 

XXII. 

'T was early Tuesday noon, — I should have said so 

At first, before I spoke about the dream ; 
Strange that I did 'nt, because I always dread so 

To tell that vision ('t would make an angel scream !) 
That I should, surely, gladly interpose 
Some stanzas 'twixt the first act and the close : — 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 17 

XXIII. 

'T was early Tuesday noon, the second of May 

Over Harvard halls — that antique home of science 

In this New World. 'T was Exhibition day ! — 
How my heart swells to bid the world defiance, 

Even at the thought of those young, pregnant hours 

Of bliss, when earth itself seemed paved with flowers ! 

XXIV. 

Long had the crowd been gathering, and at last 
"The Chapel" was crammed ; the bell has ceased, and lo ! 

The "Brigade Band" pours forth a melodious blast 
Above the pulpit ; — now with lofty, slow 

And measured tread, like warrior-gods extolled, 

In stalk the Faculty, the young, the old, 

XXV. 

The short, the tall, the lean, the fat, the learn'd 
And . . . took their seats, like other men ; for they 

Must sit, of course. The eagle, who hath spurn'd 
The nebulous fields beneath his wings, all day, 

Descends at night ; even thus, say once a quarter. 

The Faculty sit down, just where they ought to, 
2 



18 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I 

XXVI. 

In " Freshman seats," and even condescend 

To bow to students ! — Now the music stopping, 

Silence prevails; such as, when earth shall end. 
Will probably precede ; even the dropping 

Of a pin, nay ! I had almost ventured to 

Say, you might hear ''the voice of conscience" too. — 

XXVII. 

But hark ! breezes, be still ! and all ye birds, — 
Or we will have you "taken up" for treeson ! — 

Listen ! O list ! — Those were melodious words ! — 
Sweet sound ! such as the soul v(?ould gladly seize on 

And hold forever in its tympanum shell ! — 

'T would charm the gods, and soothe the shades of hell ! 

XXVIII. 

'* Expectatur ... oratio ... in ... lingua ... 

Latina ..." — Whence ? came they from mortal lips, - 
Those mystic words, — or some invisible singer ? 

'Tis he: behold him where he looms, like ships 
Refracted in the clouds ; — that classic form 
Of Phidian marble, only, breathing, warm ! 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 19 

XXIX. 

But, hold! — Behind him, on its ponderous hinges 
Parts the wide door ; thither a thousand burning 

Glances are focused : marvel not, it singes 

And dazzles and dyes the young man's features, turning 

Them various hues : a thousand scorching rays 

From maidens' eyes would make an ice-house blaze ! 

XXX. 

He comes ! a tall, majestic youth, advancing, 
Like a triumphant march in ancient Roma, 

With lion heart resolved to stem the glancing 
Of beauteous eyes : even thus, in days of Homer 

And the heroic ages, raised on high 

Their gleaming swords, chiefs met the embattled enemy. 

XXXI. 

He bows ; — it thunders ! — clap on clap resounding ! 

The galleries ring reiterated thunder ! — 
He bows ; — like legions of wild devils pounding 

On Chaos' back, stamp follows stamp ! — Strange wonder, 
That students, stairs, studs, seats and plastering, all. 
Should not upon the assembled bonnets fill. 



20 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 1. 

XXXII. 

In terrible ruin ! — cracking skulls and bones 

And arms, and shins and spines and necks and livers 

And lungs and hearts ! — I hear the dying groans 
Of men and maidens, and behold red rivers 

Of human gore ! Revolting sight ! — I trust, 

As it always has, 't will always end in dust ! 

XXXIII. 

Ere long, the cloud subsided ; and he stood, 
Like Csesar, '' at the base of Pompey's statue," 

Gazing upon the assembled multitude, 

And raised his arm, as though about to pat you. 

And spake strange words ; (and yet they seemed to please 

The maidens) "O/i / formosce virgines ! " 

XXXIV. 

Now high, now low, now fearful, wild and tragic 
Speaks he. The pulpit now, now shakes the forum 

Fearfully near the edge, as if 't were magic 

Only that held him back from tumbling o'er them ! — 

'T is done — Like Hamlet's father's spirit past 

He from the stage : loud plaudits swell the blast. 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 21 

XXXV. 

Again that clear-toned voice above the crowd ; 

Again loud thunder; and again another. 
Though less majestic and less meekly proud, 

With curly locks and silken gown (his mother 
Was there) appears; — his voice loud as the breeze, 
Clear as the sky ; — a young Demosthenes : 

XXXVI. 

He ends ; like plaudits waft him from the forum. 

And yet another appears, "A Latin Version," 
And waves an unknown sceptre gently o'er them : 

His gown, as when the Eunuch's from immersion 
Came forth baptized, hung meekly around his heels ; — 
He spake ; he ended amidst tempestuous peals ! — 

xxxvn. 

These two were Juniors. — But of loftier mien, 

Behold ! a Senior comes ; his eagle eye 
Aimed at the clouds : his glossy locks between 

His shoulders hung, like sun-set drapery; 
Him eyed the maidens, him the matrons, him 
Fathers and Faculty. Strange fancies swim 



22 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

XXXVIII. 

Through every brain, and expectation faints 

Expectant : — hark ! those lips begin their motion, 

First softly tranquil, like the prayer of saints ; 

Now, like the increasing flames, or waves of ocean 

Before the earthquake shock, swells the loud theme, 

Resplendent as an Hebrew Poet's dream. 

XXXIX. 

"Ah ! Eloquence, thou wast out-done ! " thy wings 
Did break themselves with over-flapping ; thou 

Didst shake thy feathers ofl", and crack thy strings 
With overstraining ; thou didst seek to plough 

Too deep the fields of ether, and didst mount 

Icarian-like too near the all-heating fount ! 

XL. 

Yet 'twas a glorious failure ; few have ever 

Made such and lived . . .unnoticed. — Age will calm 

The glowing fires of youth ; the spirit never 

Boils over twice. Dance for the young, and psalm 

And sermon for the old. — He ended, and 

His last words minted with the Brigade Band. — 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 23 

XLI. 

Then "music arose with its voluptuous swell ; 

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again." 
"Anna" was there, "Jane," "Julia," "Isabel," ' 

" Sarah " and " fair Angelia ; " and young men 
Were gazing on them, " a la mode Fran^aise ; " 
And yet they frowned not on their classic gaze ! 

XLII. 

Ah ! maidens, what would Exhibition be 

Without your fanning influence, smiles and eyes 1 — 
Who would address bare walls and Faculty, 

Or glory in such empty victories? 
For yoM, it is, the stream of eloquence 
Rolls out ! They feel ; they speak — in self-defence ! 

XLIII. 

But hold ! — again the dying music hushes. 
Still as a sleeping infant, and — but hist ! — 

Both doors unfold : here, like a mad bull, rushes 
A Junior ; there his fierce antagonist. 

"Arcadians both," high-blooded, skilled alike 

To stammer, rave, strut, weep, swing, tremble, strike ! 



24 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I, 

XLIV. 

Slapity-bang ! whang, like India squibs and crackers, 
Word follows word ! Greek roots commingle ! thunder 

And liorhtninof ! omnibuses ! drunken Bacchus ! 

Silence ! contempt ! despair ! forgiveness ! wonder ! 

Half-reconciled ! no, never ! O ! moi ! pos ! 

Kai gar ! ou-po-pote ! they come — to blows ! 

XLV. 

They end. " 'T was startling, but magnificent : " — 
Mothers were there, and fathers ; and they smiled 

With inward joy, even at their own descent. — 
Doctors were there, and ministers, beguiled 

(Or feigned to be) by those wild, classic strains, 

Estranged — and always strangers to their brains ! 

XLVI. 

Maidens I beware ! a Senior comes — his eye, — 
Full as an orbed shield, keen as a spear ! — 

Will stab you to the heart ! — Sweet agony, 

I ween, though fatal. — Cautious ! hold ! — I fear ! — 

He comes ! — Oh, venturesome girls ! — So kindly beaming, 

Ye deem him innocently on you dreaming. 



CANTO 



CHILDE HARVARD. 25 



XLVIL 



Yet dreams are dangerous; and young people should not 
Be suffered even to dream, without permission, 

About each other ; then, there surely would not 
Be half so many in that bad condition. 

Called love. — But ah ! I see all preaching vain is ; 

Your eyes and ears are where that mellow strain is, 

XLVIII. 

Bewitched. — Ah ! now ye fear him not ; those words 
So tender, soft, low, sweet, melodious, mild ; 

That graceful motion — as when tuneful birds 
Sing on the waving branches — have beguiled 

Your senses ; and those thoughts, chaste, bold, poetic, 

Leave you entranced, letheonized, magnetic ! 

XLIX. 

He smiled, he bowed ; and, as he passed away, 

The maidens sighed ; the echoing galleries rung. — 

Muses ! Oh, muses, help ! " Oh, make essay ! " — 
Behold ! fierce champions of the Latin tongue. 

Two Juniors come ; the one, like a tall giraffe 

With Webster's front ; the other nearly half 



26 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 

L. 

His stature ; short, yet firm, and with an eye 
That flashed intelligence, and raven locks. 

High-blooded both ; both hot for victory : 

Both, too, had *' thundered at Euphrates' rocks," 

Like Cassar, (had they lived then,) and had led 

Legions on legions to a gory bed ; 

LL 

Who knows? 'T is v/ise, at least, to speculate 

On things that might have been. Behold, how luck, 

Not brains, has made earth's great immortals great : — 
These boys might have been Caesars, or have stuck 

Caesar, as Brutus did, or loved " the galls " 

Like " Charley," or eaten them up like cannibals! 

LIL 

Disgusting thought ! — But here they spouted Latin 
In Harvard College, and the crowd delighted 

Saw them, like Goodies, clothed in gowns of satin 
Or silk or cotton, black as souls benighted. — 

All, save the gowns, was startling, splendid, tragic. 

But gowns on men have lost their ivonted magic ; 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 

LIII. 

I know not why. And yet a beautiful gown is 
A beautiful thing on woman with its hustle 

And other appendages ; its silky sound is 
A pleasant thing to hear, as is the rustle 

Of angels' wings ; it fits her, like an halo 

Around the sun guarding the eyes " a malo ! " 

LIV. 

They ended, like a night-mare ; — by this meaning, 
They did it '' with a rush " — the hot sweat courses 

A down their perspirating faces, gleaning, 
Like Ruth, at every step, additional forces, 

Until it reached their boots, and stopped to flow, as 

This self-same Ruth slept at the foot of Boas. 

LV. 

They ended ; and the crowd had nearly fainted 
From long and wild excitement, when sweet music 

Pours forth its soul-like, cordial : smiles are painted 
On features that but now were pale and grew sick. 

Even the Faculty rose up to view, 

Smiling to deem their task full half-way through. 



28 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

LVI. 

Silence again. A Senior comes, big-hearted, 
Firm, honest, kind, intelligent ; his brow 

Bore marks of thought and study : he had started 
His course already fixed. — I hear him now, 

As then, methinks. preaching before his wife 

And flock, in some Wyomian vale of life. 

LVII. 

Long may he flourish, eloquent and great, 
Devout and good, " fisher of men," and gain 

Innumerable souls, using the bait 
That never fails, a cultivated brain. 

Zeal, faith, and love ; even till his days are ended, 

And life's high dreams in heavenly joys are blended. 

LVIII. 

He left the crowd delicrhted : and another, — 
Fair-featured as the moon, a gentle speaker, 

(His mother's son, and more, his sister's brother,) — 
Now holds the stand, speaking *' in lingua Grgeca " 

Wild warbling sounds. All list enchanted, altho' 

None understood him, more than great Ralph Waldo. 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 29 

LIX. 

" My kingdom for a horse ! " Behold ! he cometh 

Striding majestic ; he a Senior ; he, too, 
"The potent orator; " the gallery hummeth 

Loud thunders of applause; and, like a bee to 
A flower, the maidens' eyes are turned on him, 
That lordly Senior of the lofty limb. 

LX. 

Strong was his manly voice, deep, loud, sonorous, 
As is the wave-lashed caves of sounding ocean; 

Far swept his gestures, and, like shadows o'er us, 
Waved his long arms in terrible commotion ! 

Full were his periods rolling, like waters 

Swollen by the moon ; his thoughts, whales, sharks, and 
otters ! 

LXI. 

He ended, with a bow majestic, and 

Bewildered sat the breathless multitude. 
Many have fainted — had the Brigade Band 

Not fingered forth its last, long interlude! — 
Silence ! A Junior comes ; short, thick ; — his voice 
Rolls, like the current of the Illinois, 



30 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

LXII. 

And charms the crowd. — Scarce had he left the forum, 
When, like some building moved along the street, 

A stout, broad-breasted Senior sails before them 
To unload his cargo, — roots and logs of Greek ! 

One deemed he was Demosthenes, — another, — 

From that long gown, — Demosthenes's mother ! 

LXIII. 

The last, save one, succeeding, with a bound up 
Leaps into view, and trembleth over the rostrum. 

Like Richard, when his fearful dream had wouncj up ; 
Writhing, as though some inward, griping nostrum 

Gnawed every nerve. — 'T was but the serpent's coil 

Before the spring. Words, thoughts, emotions boil 

LXIV. 

Within him, and in vain seek outlet through 

His lips at once. — Too furious youth ; he never 

Could check the tide of eloquence, that threw 

And tossed him about — in vain ; — it could not sever 

Him from the theme. He storms. Though clothed in 
thunders. 

His lightnings always hit ; his audience wonders ! 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 31 

LXV. 

Music again, before the great " finale," 

Wafts from the stage the raving Cicero. 
And, like some bed of roses in a vale, the 

Aurorian maidens, in the seats below, 
Lift up their heads and shake their flowery bonnets, 
Seeming, methought, most like embodied sonnets ! — 

LXVI. 

But earth itself must pass away, and even 

The constellations burn, like Egyptian mummies ! 

And vanish, making room for Hell and Heaven ! — 
This of the universe the end and sum is ; 

Then marvel not that this great exhibition 

Should end, bright, glowing, as the furnace of perdition ! 

LXVII. 

Oh ! what a sight, to gaze from Heaven's high towers 
Upon the flaming universe ! — the Dragon 

Writhing in agony, shaking red showers 

Of meteors from his tail ! — Like a rumbling wagon 

Over pavements, rattling down the milkyway, 

Night shall pursue the blazing wheels of Day ! 



32 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I, 

LXVIII. 

Direful the groans of constellations dying : — 
Taurus loud-bellowing, and hot Leo roaring ; 

Aries and Capricornus, and the frying 

Pisces and boiling Cancer ; Virgo deploring ; 

Castor and Pollux, furious as in battle, 

Shall gird the Zodiac with death's horrible rattle ! 

LXIX. 

Northward, the Bears shall snarl in agony, and 
The writhing Serpent, coiling fiercely around 

Them, hiss ! Even Hercules, at last unmanned, 
Shall hurl his terrible club, and with a bound 

Shall shake the heavens : while singeing in the fire 

Aquila and Cygnus moan, with the snapping Lyre ! 

LXX. 

Circling the antarctic pole, a mingled wail — 
Louder than all the accumulated thunders 

Since time began — shall rise. The spouting Whale 
Shall shake his bubbling body, till it sunders ; 

Orion shout ; the twain Dogs yelp ; the Crow 

And Hydra curse, this last funereal glow ! 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 33 

LXXI. 

Devils shall triumph, for the Universe 

Shall be a perfect Hell. All, that is matter, 

Must ride to nothing in this fiery hearse ! 
Even the graves shall vanish, and the clatter 

Of bones : the stars and all their planets, turned 

To gases, 'wait their moment to be burned ! 

LXXII. 

Spirits alone shall stand the fire. The Just, 
Rising above the realms of peopled space, 

Unharmed shall see the end of sinful dust : 
The Wicked sink to their own dwelling-place, 

Weighed down by sins. — The gas explodes! — 'Tis light! — 

'Tis dark ! — Heaven dawns! — Hell blackens into night! — 

LXXIII. 

These last six stanzas, I suppose, may seem 

Rather out of place, and should be marked with " C " ; 

That is, " want of connection " in *' the theme." — 
But ** what is writ is writ ; " so let it be : 

'Tis all well here ; — though 'twere a grand mistake, 

To write so, should one ''fish" for ^^ a forty-eight ! ^' 
3 



34 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

LXXIV. 

/ " fish " " for men " and women, and great ideas, 
And care not how you ''mark the paragraph." 

[Great critics usually have long ears ;) 
/only care to make the people laugh ; 

They make them wail ; I " go for effect ; " they rules, 

Enemies to genius , but the shield of fools. 

LXXV. 

Besides, this may not, after all, be taken 
Mai a propos : 'tis never out of place to 

Reflect upon the end : 'tmay "save one's bacon," 
His honor and his soul from deep disgrace too : — 

And in such moments of high exaltation 

Man may forget his God, himself, his station. 

LXXVI. 

Digressions, too, are only episodes, 

The watering places of an epic, or a 
Romance ; where, wearied by the dusty roads 

Of thought, the traveller stops, and rests him for a 
Brief space : hence Homer, Virgil and " Paul Flemming," 
Even in his family " Romance," bring them in. 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 35 

LXXVII. 

Moreover, it has a wonderful effect, 

In raising small things, simply to compare them 
To something greater ; few will ever detect 

The fallacy. — I only meant to scare them ! — 
My readers — into silence, to attend 
To this great Exhibition's greater end ! 

LXXVIII. 

Silence prevails, unbroken save by the panting 
Of hearts expectant ; even the fans have stopped 

Their ceaseless flutter, and, " like birds," sit slanting 
On delicate hands. — 'T is said, one maiden dropped 

Hers unsiware, expecting, to be sure. 

Some young beau 'd pick it up and give it to her ! 

LXXIX. 

I hope he did ; because it is no pleasing 

Affair for mankind to be disappointed ; 
And, least of all, young ladies, — fond of teasing, 

Though not of being teased, save by unwonted 
And unexpected crowds of beaux and suitors; 
Such as, young doctors, lawyers, students, tutors ! 



36 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 1. 



LXXX. 

The door swings open — and — he comes ! behold him 
Wrapt in his mantling gown, that round him flows 

Waving, as Caesar's toga did enfold him. 

What time he fell pierced through with brutal blows. — 

Thunders of clapping ! — As he bows, on high 

^'Praeses" his "Oxford" doffs, and bows reply. 

LXXXI. 

Again it thunders, — and again ! — At last 

He speaks ; clear, as the Aganippean fountain ; 

Graceful, as fairies swimming on some blast 
Of ether, yet bold, majestic, as a mountain. — 

He ceased. "The last" was "first." Such was the 
" snapper." — 

Alpha, Omega, and "Phi-Beta-Kappa!" 

LXXXII. 

Thus ended it, — an Harvard Exhibition, 

When I was young. I know it may be wrong 

T' have dwelt thus much upon its exposition : 
But yet, an old man loves to prattle long 

About his youth. — Perchance, ere long delighted, 

Others may read these lines of him, they slighted. 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 37 

LXXXIII. 

Justly 't may be. — He always loved to please them, 
And still remembers them with kind emotions ; 

And if, as age creeps on, his pains may ease them 
Of a single sigh, by calling up the notions, 

That once were theirs ; he has not piped in vain 

This song, nor yet one mournful, parting strain : 



Nunc dicendum est finale, 

Verbum mordax et lethale ; 

Cuique quisque, vale ! vale ! " — w. b. c. 



1. 

" Sad the thoughts that now remind us. 
College scenes have passed away. 

And, like dreams of morn behind us, 
Vanished into opening day ! 

2. 

" Farewell, youthful, boyish pleasures ! 

Must we bid you all adieu 1 
Shall the past, with all its treasures, 

Sink forever from our view ? 



38 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

3. 

" College scenes, and college fancies, — 
Thieves of moments idly wasted, — 

Memory of you still enhances, 
Still we deem you half untasted ! 

4. 

" But farewell ! ye must not follow 
Through the coming dubious strife ; 

Manhood's ocean sure must swallow 
All the brooks of college life. 

5. 

" While the past and future, bending 

O'er the present saddening hour, 
On our souls their shades are sending, 

Words have lost their wonted power. 

6. 

" Heart to heart alone may whisper 

What the heart alone may feel ; 
Soul to soul alone may lisper 

Thoughts, that through the spirit steal. 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 39 

7. 

" But the sacred band that binds us, 

Brothers of the mystic lot, 
Still shall find, as now it finds us, 

Fastened by a golden knot. 

8. 

*' What though now your jovial faces 
Soon shall cheer my heart no more ; 

Still shall memory in their places 
See the noble souls of yore. 

9. 

" When some fair one, o'er you bending, 
Fires your souls to deeds sublime ; 

When upon your knees ascending 
Sons and daughters prattling climb ; 

10. 

'' When upon life's great arena 

Each shall act a generous part. 
Bearing with a chiefs demeanor 

Soul and body, mind and heart ; 



40 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 

11. 

" Or till wearied even with glory ; 

(May no other grief attend you,) 
Till your locks are thin and hoary ; 

Till an easy death shall end you ; 

12. 

*' May your souls be flowing ever 
. With the sweets of joyous life, 
Tasting of the bitter never, — 
And when married have a loife ! " 



LXXXIV. 

After precisely such an Exhibition, 

As this, (though many a year had vanished fast,) 
Returning from his nightly expedition, — 

Somewhere, — one of the young " Divinities " passed 
Straight through the College yard. 'T was just eleven 

O'clock at night. The Student's thoughts on Heaven 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 41 

LXXXV. 

Were turned, or should have been. 'T was silent round ; 

Not even, "with its voluptuous swell" of dust, 
Rattled one omnibus : in sleep profound 

With their rich wives the Faculty were hushed : 
Even the Students, who '^ had 'parts,'' were still; 
Some willingly ; some contrary to their will ! 

LXXXVI. 

Even, too, the jovial "Puds," — whose luscious bowl 
Of the ambrosial milk and golden maize, 

Keeps full " the genial current of the soul," — 
With breasts expanded, took their silent ways 

To bed ; but still in dreams they feasted, or 

Sang low the " Psalm of Life," or high " Excelsior " ! 

LXXXVII. 

Onward the Student passed ; his lofty head 

Behind his shoulders thrown; his raven locks, — 

Like some old Prophet, or some Indian maid, — 

Flowed down behind. — " The World 's a paradox ! " 

He said, " a perfect sham ! " and cast his eyes 

Heavenward ; he nears the pump — an infant cries ! 



43 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 

LXXXVIII. 

He started back with an instinctive shudder ! — 
Unmarried, as he was, he felt affrighted 

And reeled, like a young lambkin at the udder ; 
Whereas, a husband would have stood, delighted, 

Gazing. 'T is always so; as folks grow older. 

Or enter the married state, they then grow bolder. 

LXXXIX. 

Again the baby cries, all plaintively ! — 

He starts again ; — he stops ; — he stands to list ; — 
Another cry ! — and he resolves to see 

The child, and be a bold philanthropist : 
Bravely he seeks . . . the pump, and bending low 
Beholds the weeping babe, and greets- it nearly so : 



" Christ, the Lord, was ' in a manger ' 
Born and cradled ; but thou art 

Here like Moses, little stranger, 
In a basket, or ' an ark ! ' 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 43 

2. 

" Who has placed thee here, my baby ? 

Who has placed thee here alone 1 
Where 's thy mother ? — Ah ! it may be, 

She is uttering many a groan ! 

3. 

" Thou hast met a cold reception, 

Dark and misty is thy morn ; 
But the world is all deception. 

And no matter where we 're born ! 

4. 

" ' O thou child of many prayers ! ' 

Cast upon a barbarous shore ! 
For the world is full of bears. 

And existence is a boar ! 

5. 

" Child of Harvard ! Child of Science ! 

Life is all an empty hoax ! — 
Rise, and bid the world defiance ! — 

Acorns spring to lofty oaks. 



44 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

6. 

" Many a child, without a father 

Or a mother, like to thee, 
Living mounts a throne, or rather 

Richly there deserves to be ! 

7. 

" Boldly meet the world, my dearest ; 

Fortune may attend thee yet : 
Thou may'st, if thou rightly steerest, 

Be a Second Everett ! 

8. 

" If the proud and haughty ever 

Twit thee for thy lowly birth ; 
Tell them, that thy soul forever 

Shall exist ; — thy body 's earth ! 

9. 

" Tell them, that thou art descended 

From an old and lofty line : — 
Thou art all, they e'er pretended ; 

Eve's and Adam's blood is thine ! " 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 45 

XC. 

The Student ended, and, as if in prayer : 

He raised his hands to heaven, and then he pumped 

A little water, and baptized him there : 
The water wet his baby head : he jumped 

At first ; but when the Student in his arm 

Held him and sang this short baptismal psalm : 



1. 

" I baptize thee, child of knowledge ! — 
Here may'st thou thy kindred claim ; 

Thou wast found near Harvard College, 
And ' Childe Harvard ' be thy name ! 



2. 

" Harvard be thy guardian pater; 

And, because thou hast no other, 
Harvard be thy 'Alma Mater ; ' 

Be thy father and thy mother ! " 



46 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO I. 

XCI. 

The baby smiled, as though his infant eyes 

Beheld the future crowned with fame and roses ! — 

He saw his patron, and with glad surprise 

Bethought him of the little bulrushed Moses ; 

May be, he saw, some bounteous millionare, — 

Some whole-souled Lawrence, — would instruct and send 
him there ! 

XCII. 

O, generous act ! — The wealth, — that hews but one 
Tall granite slab, — were it bestowed on thee, 

Might raise a spirit up, a glorious son 

Of Science, from the depths of misery ! — 

The proudest do ne of art will moulder away : 

One deed, like that, will live throughout Eternity ! 

XCIII. 

I said, the student was unmarried ; had he 

Have had a wife and home, he wo ild have known 

What way to turn ; the child had called him, " daddy ! " 
Ere this, and been adopted as his own. 

It always saves a deal of pains and cost, 

To get a child, somebody else has lost ! 



CANTO I.] CHILDE HARVARD. 47 

XCIV. 

It would have been, as every one must see, 

A most outrageous act to carry it 
Crying, that night to "The Divinity; " 

Perchance, the Faculty might have "seen fit" 
To send him oflf — " unkindest cut of all " — 
For having " strange folks " in that sacred Hall ! 

XCV. 

He stood beside the pump, and paused, as if 

Buried " in thoughts too deep ; " and then he drew 

A sigh, and then his pocket-handkerchief; — 
When, suddenly he gazed, and hurrying through 

The gate, he saw a female form ; — her hair 

Dishevelled, floated on the star-lit air. 

XCVI. 

He saw ; and in his coat-tail pocket jammed 

The babe; and, swifter than the wild-wood deer. 

Pursued that female form. — But I have " crammed" 
This canto quite too full, and somewhat fear, 

'T will burst ! for if the Student overtook 

The maiden, what he saw would make another book ! ! 



CHILDE HARVARD. 



CANTO II. 

"And your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see 
visions." — Joel ii. 23. 

"El Mundo es un Sueiio." — Spanish Proverb. 



CHILDE HARVARD 



CANTO II. 



" And your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see 
visions." — Joel ii. 28. 

" El Mundo es un Sueno." — Spanish Proverb. 



I. 

By this time, I conclude, ye all are willing. 
And perfectly prepared, to hear the dream, 

I promised you, some stanzas past ; — a thrilling 
And beautiful vision ! Ladies, don't now scream 

And act like fools ; because 't will make me gruffer 

Than time, — or else I hope to never suffer ! 



52 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 



II. 

Or, if you 're going to scream, you'd better do it 

At first, so as not to interrupt the story, 
Just at the moment I am half way through it, 

And my young muse is soaring in her glory 
'Twixt heaven and earth, bound to those fabulous streams 
In fairy land, the "Apian Land" of dreams; 



III. 

Where baby dreams are born and nursed, and nightmares 
And horses run loose, like our wild *' mustangs" 

In the far west ; and images of white-bears. 
Giraffes, boars, kangaroos, orang-outangs, 

Constrictors, skunks, hyenas, screech-owls, hedgehogs, — 

Whatever dwells in air, earth, sea or sedge-bogs, — 

IT. 

Are there daguerreotyped; even we ourselves 
Have shadowy counterparts, waiting the bidding 

Of their own fancies to descend, like elves. 

To some dull slumberer's brain, and therein hidden 

Make him think, 'tis ourselves he is dreaming of: — 

This often happens when young people love. 



CANTO II.] CIIILDE HARVARD. 53 

V. 

When lovers love below, their dreams are loving 

Above ; and when they woo, their dreams are wooing ; 

And when they walk in groves, their dreams are grove'mg ; 
And when, like doves, they coo, their dreams are cooing : 

But when they sleep, the*dreams divide, 't is said. 

And each one seeks the other lover's bed ! 

VI. 

'T is strange how I should dream that dream ; although 
There was a cause : when one has seen a foundery, — 

Of Meshech, Shadrach and Abednego, 

He is sure to dream ; or when he has heard a roundelay 

From some fair maiden's lips, or been to a wedding. 

He '11 dream of David's harp, and beds and bedding ! 

VII. 

'T was even thus with me : that Exhibition 

With all its fair enchantments — lads and lasses — 

Music and spouters — put me in a condition 
Most similar to that, in which an ass is. 

Weighed down by pumpkins or a load of girls 

In creels, or crushed to earth by sacks of pearls. 



54 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 

VIII. 

Bewildered I left, exhausted and amazed : 

For those young orators did pierce and shiver 

The universe, through whose broad cracks in blazed 
The future and the past ! — How like a river 

Of thoughts, they swept the breathless crowd before them, 

And ever and anon dashed fiercely o'er them ! 

IX. 

I left bewildered, and that night repaired 

Early to bed ; (I can 't say where my chum went, — 

With whom, — what time he got home, — how he fared; — 
No body knows ; no body could circumvent 

That curious chap ; — I always have suspected 

He went to see . . . Ann . . Oyster . . . soup dissected ! 



But I, of course, was not " my brother's keeper ; " 
Nor would I, proctor-like, tell tales about him. — 

That night I slept a dreamy slumber, deeper 

Than was my wont : I slept alone, without him.) 

'T was midnight now ; 'twixt which and morn, the vision 

Flow'd thro' my soul, like streams thro' fields Elysian. 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 55 

XI. 

idreamed, I saw a female angel coming 
Straight down from glory, attended by a train 

Of cherubs, with their little harp-strings humming 
Celestial notes and many a soft refrain. — 

Nearer she came, downward, still downward wending, 

rill finally she stopped, above me bending. 

XII. 

[magine how I felt ! — I did not know her. 
Nor could I, in the name of all that's frightful, 

Conjecture how she got in ; for the door 
Was locked. But there she stood, a thing delightful, 

Bewilderingly fair. — I tried to scream. 

Because I knew not that she was a dream ! 

XTII. 

(You know what is the nature of a vision ; 

Imaginations always seem to be 
Realities : such was the case with this one.) 

And then I blushed, and feared '' The Faculty " 
Would find it out ; " and finally " expel " 
My body — and my soul . . . would go to — hell ! 



56 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 

XIV. 

" Expulsion " is a dread phenomenon : 

It always ruins a youth, and nearly kills 
His parents. — 'T were a better way, when one 

Does wrong, to make him take a dose of pills ; 
Or fasten him up in " Commons " or in attics, 
And make him study " P 's Mathematics." 

XV. 

And were I President of Harvard College, 

(Pardon ! — " The University at Cambridge," 
Is what I meant to say,) — that place where knowledge 

Depends on "marks; " and who has most, on fame's ridge- 
Pole stands preeminent, even as a steeple 
And weathercock tower up above the people ! 

XVI. 

Harvard ! Oh, Harvard ! venerated shade ! — 
Illustrious, primal founder ! glorious Harvard ! 

Thy name, — behold ! posterity had laid 

It down to slumber in oblivion's grave-yard ! — 

Thy pounds, thy prayers, thy hopes were all in vain, 

Eclipsed by Phillips, Lawrence, Gore and Dane ! 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 57 

XVII. 

Young martyred Phillips .... acted rather silly 
In leaving the world so soon, before his glory, 

Which by his 'Mast and truly munificent will " he 
Acquired, had come to be a common story 

In all the papers. — All the other donors 

Saw fit to live, and living buy up mourners. 

XVIII. 

But he, the much afflicted youth, retiring 

And modest, cared not even to hear his name 

Once trumpeted ; but made his will expiring ; 
And modestly to escape the voice of Fame, — 

Virgil describes her — bid the world defiance, 

And went self-martyred to the cause of Science ! 

XIX. 

Were I a man of millions, I would be 

One of two things ; or generous, while I live. 

And bless poor suffering humanity. 

And learn to know how good it is to give ; 

Or die and make my wealth all into a coffin 

Of gold and gems and pearls, to bear me off* in ! — 



58 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 

XX. 

As I was saying ; — were I President 

*'At Cambridae," I would make some ''radical changes " 
In various points. 'T would be my first intent 

To keep " the Students" confined in proper ranges 
Of time and place. Around the college yard 
I would have a monstrous wall, and gates and guard ; 

XXL 

At every gate a frightful Proctor in all his 

Equipments stationed ; and should any Student 

Or Goody attempt to spit, or smoke, or call his 

Friend from the window ; — or any other imprudent 

And sinful act ; or 'stand in crowds " of three " — 

All is, — '' report them to the Faculty ! " 

XXII. 

And should they "scrape" in prayers, because they are long 
And rather " squirty " at times ; or fire some cocks 

Of hay, or rockets, or tar, or sing a song 

Or psalm by night; just clap them in the stocks«! 

But vain is all reform, this wall and gate 

Unbuilt, unguarded firm by half past eight. — 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 59 

XXIII. 

** Man is a curious phenomenon ; " 

He has no more control over his notions 
Than any thing else; the fact is, thoughts are born 

Revolving swifter than perpetual motions : 
Ideas are like a cactus, ever springing 
Out of themselves, in all directions clinging. 

XXIV. 

There stood she still, — that angel vision, — bending 
Over my sleeping form, and I was gazing 

With spirit eyes on her : — two spirits blending 
In one long, silent look. Suddenly raising 

A vial of the ethereal " chloroform^^ 

She laid it on my lips with fingers warm. 

XXV. 

Oh ! then, how most unutterably curious 

Were the sensations that came softly stealing 

Over my body ! Never so luxurious 
And so bewilderingly funny a feeling 

Had I experienced in all my days : 

All smiles I felt, all bliss, all songs of praise ! 



60 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 

XXVI. 

My soul seemed loosened from its coils, and floated 
Before my face ; methought I saw my eyes ; 

But they were closed : the world whirled round all bloated 
With rainbows and celestial harmonies : 

The heavens appeared about " the central sun," 

Rotating, on that golden pivot hung. 

XXVII. 

A palsying tremor thrills my body, and 

It feels no more. I was a naked spirit 
And with that spiritual creature, hand in hand, 

Borne toward another world, now drawing near it 
Swifter than thought : I dare not open wide 
My swimming eyes upon the billowy tide 

XXVIII. 

Of ether ; half-entranced and half affrighted, 
I clasped my arms around the fairy being 

That buoyed me up ; she clasped in turn delighted 
My trembling form; well pleased, it seemed, at seeing 

My natural fears, but more, that she should be 

My faithful pilot over that azure sea. 



CANTO II.] CniLDE HARVARD. 61 

» XXIX. 

" Fear not," she said, and strained me closer to her 
Warm bosom ; " fear not, child of earth, for thoa 

Wast born to be the first, the only viewer 

Of man's primordial state, and whence and how 

Spirits originate, and infant souls 

Descend to earth, and enter fleshly moulds." 

XXX. 

She ended, pointing downward, and again — 
Just as our naked feet touched on, I know not 

What delicate substance — spake ; " This is the main, 
Long bridge, that lies between the isles, where grow not 

Corporeal beings, and earth, which shines afar, 

Yonder, thou seest, beside the Evening star." 

XXXI. 

She ceased ; and lo ! I gazed ; and we were treading 
Upon a bridge of rainbows lightly floating 

Over the ethereal waves. A gulf lay spreading 
Below it. Far as eye could reach, were boating 

And sails and skiffs, and they that rode therein, 

It seemed, were happy spirits, light and thin. 



62 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 

XXXII. 

" Oh ! who and what are they ? — What world is this 1 " 

I said : " Is this a land of phantasy 
And mere delusions, or the home of bliss ? — 

What shores are those ? — what islands, and what sea? 
For I am lost." She smiled, and clasped my hand 
In hers, and said, "This is the Apian Land ! " 

XXXIII. 

" The ' Apian Land ! ' — the land of bees and apes. 

Is it ? " I said : *' it cannot be the old 
Peloponnesus; for such airy shapes 

As these, no Grecian bard has ever told 
Us of. — Is that a steamboat there 1 — My notion 
Is, that it moves by a perpetual motion ! 

XXXIV. 

" For I behold the sparkling paddles plying. 

But see no smoke, no steam, and hear no puffing 

Nor wheezing ; and she rides, like condors flying 
Majestic o'er the Andes, skimming, luffing, 

Floating upon the billowy air. — Oh ! who 

Are they upon her deck ? — where voyaging to ? " 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 6 

XXXV. 

" We soon shall see ; " replied my angel guide ; 

" But first ascend we to the bridge's tip, 
And thence behold the sight." We onward glide, 

As easily as silvery fishes slip 
Between the particles of water, and 
Swifter than the winds, high on the summit stand. 

XXXVI. 

Above us, more resplendent than the morning, — 
When at Creation's birth the stars were singing, — 

All rainbow-tinted a gorgeous, golden awning. 
Supported high on ivory posts, was swinging. 

The floor was jasper, smoother than the cheek 

Of a Circassian girl, or beardless Greek. 

XXXVII. 

Around it all an open balustrade 

Of crystal ran. Carved in fantastic fashion 

Couches were there, softer than those where laid 

That eastern queen, known for her wondrous passion 

For Solomon. Soft breezes blew, and, as a 

Cradle, so rocked this rainbow bridge's great piazza. 



64 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 

XXXVIII. 

Awhile I gazed ; and then grew dizzy, reeling 
From very giddiness, and should have tipt 

Over the balustrade, had not a feeling 

Of pity seized my guide, who softly slipt, — 

In time to save, — her arm around my waist, 

And kindly drew me back and gently placed 

XXXIX. 

Me on a velvet couch. I thanked her kindly, 

And soon revived. — '' Behold ! " she said, and pointed 

To where the vessel moved ; but all went blindly 
And mistily ; my vision still disjointed 

Beheld the deck, but they, that rode thereon, 

Appeared no bigger than a distant swan. 

XL. 

I saw them walking to and fro and tossing 
Something, I knew not what, high in the air 

And in their arms : crossing and then recrossing 
They walked the deck. — I asked my guardian fair, 

'' O, who and what are they ? " — Without reply, 

She smiled, and from her head pulled out an eye ! 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 

XLI. 

" Take this ! " she said. — I started with affright 
And wild astonishment. — *' Take this ; — I hope 

You 're not afraid of a girl's eye ! — your sight 
Is short : mine beats the Cambridge telescope ! " 

I blushed and took the eye, but said, '* I fear, 

You rob yourself." — "I have another here, 

XLII. 

The mate to that; " she said, " be not alarmed ; 

One eye, like this, is quite enough for any 
Woman. To take one out has never harmed 

It yet, and I have pulled it out full many 
A time ! The eye is but a kind of spy-glass 
Through which the spirit looks — a sort of eye-glass.' 

XLIII. 



(( ) 



T is true :" I smiled ; " but such an eye, as this is. 
Is something more methinks than convex glasses, 
Coatings and humors. The eye of soul-like misses. 

Like thee, if only a machine, surpasses 
All other machines; but I could swear there is a 
Spirit within, that turns a fellow dizzy ! " 
5 



66 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 

XLIV. 

" That is a question of mere ideality ; " 

Replied the female angel ; " but alas ! 
One thing, I fear, will be a real reality ; 

Unless you look, the vessel soon will pass 
From sight, around that promontory, where 
Mingle the island, ocean and the air. — 

XLV. 

*' Where is the eye? — You have put it in your pocket 
I guess ! " — " No ! here it is, — now only show us 

The way to use an eye pulled out of socket. 
And if I do'nt devour the scene below us ! " — 

She smiled, and thought it rather strange that I 

Had never learned the way to use an eye ! 

XLVI. 

" Why, — hold it up precisely as you hold an 
Opera glass, when Fanny Elsler dances ! 

What now ! you ar'nt afraid ? — You are a bold man ! " 
" Of course I am not afraid ; but yet the chances 

Are very many that one will lose his eyes 

By such an idle, daring enterprise ; 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 67 

XLVII. 

" But let me * pass the Rubicon,' " I said, 

And grasped the eye and held it close to mine. 

The eye appeared to smile and wink, and shed 
A sort of mellow, sun-set light, so fine 

And so bewildering, that I could see 

Only the eye, and that was fixed on me ! 

XLVIII. 

" Just turn it round, holding the retina, 
And not the cornea to your own, and look 

Upon the ship, and things will clearer far 
Appear than golden letters in a book : " 

She said ; and I obeyed ; and, gazing through 

Her eye, brought up the spirit ship to view. 

XLIX. 

And lo ! and what a sight was there to see ! 

The vessel's self was made of crystal, and 
Bedecked with various gems, whose brilliancy 

Outshone the stars. The gentle breezes fanned 
Her on, assisted by the perpetual motion 
Within her hull ; — her name — the unseen ocean. 



68 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 



An angel sat upon the helm, holding 

A telescope, and placed high up among 
The rigging were happy sailors : these were folding 

Their arms, in thought ; and those, while musing, sung. 
When suddenly, just as the vessel drew 
Well nigh the shore, the helmsman hailed the crew : 

LI. 

" All hands ahoy ! furl every sail, and bring 
The babies forth upon the deck ; " he said, 

And instantly from all the cabin spring 
Innumerable forms, and all arrayed. 

Like angels, in thin garbs of " woven air," 

And all were young, and most exceeding fair. 

LIT. 

And they appeared to be virgins, except 

That they had wings, and on their bosoms carried 

Young infants' souls, that there reposing slept. — 

" O, who are they 1" I cried, " and are they married ? 

Or are they nursery-maids, or are they mothers ? 

And are those infants all sisters and brothers 



CANTO II,] CHILDE HARVARD. 69 

LIII. 

" Of one great family 1 They all are fair, 

And clothed alike. Oh, tell me whencQ — and whither 
This marvellous crew ? " My guardian spoke ; " Even there 

Thou, too, before thy birth, wast borne together 
With thy contemporaries, most of whom 
Are living still : others are in the tomb ! 

LIV. 

'' And those, whom thou mistakest for mothers, are 
But guardian spirits, whose whole souls' delight 

It is to guide young spirits down, and war 
Off evil shades, until they safely alight 

Upon the shores of earth, to spend ... a day, 

Or a few years at most, in forms of clay. 

LV. 

" The world is but a pasture for probation 
For souls incarnate. Fleshly bodies never 

Beget a soul. Some pasture for damnation ; 
Others more wisely choose to " live forever 

In bliss." " But souls," I said, " I deemed to be 

Nothing, that one might weigh, or touch, or see." 



70 CHILDE HARVARD. [CANTO II. 

LVI. 

'' Young man," replied the Vision, " thou hast fed 

On false philosophy : the soul of man is 
Substance : ' there is a natural body,' said 

The Sacred Writer, * and (such God's great plan is) 
A spiritual body ; ' one enfolds 
The other, as a sponge the shapeless water holds. 

LVII. 

" Compress and squeeze the sponge ; the liquid then 
Flows out : 't is even so with flesh and soul ; 

You squeeze a person hard enough, — as when 
A black bear, or a white bear round the pole, 

Just hugs his enemies as we do friends, — 

The spirit oozes out ; existence ends ! 

LVIII. 

" The soul is something, is it not ? And that, 

Which is not nothing, must have weight, although 

We cannot weigh it, as we do hog's-fat. 
In our imperfect balances below : — 

We cannot weigh the lightning, but we feel 

Its weight and power ; it makes the mountains reel ! 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 71 

LIX. 

" Were spirits but a mere abstraction, how 

Could they incite and move and rule our bodies ? 

Could an abstraction of an ox-team, plough ; 

Or men "get high" by drinking abstract toddies? 

Or could imaginary lightnings tip 

A steeple over, or destroy a ship 1 " 

LX. 

She ended out of breath ; and I began 

To feel somewhat bewildered, and replied ; 

" I rather guess that you are right ; the plan 
Of the universe none knows, who has not died ; 

And even then, perhaps, his own affairs 

Engross the larger portion of his cares. 

LXI. 

" If these be baby souls, as thou hast told me ; — 

All is — I have a curiosity 
To know from whence they came, and therefore boldly 

With modest deference demand of thee. 
If they be born, as fleshly babes below; 
If they be made ; or if, like acorns, grow 



72 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II 

LXII. 

'' On trees ; — how sweet must be the blossoming 
Of such a plant! — how delicate the flowers 

Of fruits that ripen to so fair a thing, 

Like which no rose e'er bloomed in Eden's bowers ! — 

Or are they hatched from spirit eggs, which some 

Celestial bird deposits in her azure home 1 " 

LXIII. 

" Presumptuous youth ! " replied the Vision, '' thou 
Wouldst know all things. I cannot tell thee whether 

These babies are born, or hatched, or made, or how ! — 
But when "the unseen ocean" makes another 

Voyage for souls, I, too, intend to go 

To that far land, and then I '11 let thee know. 

LXIV. 

" But hold ! — they are singing now, high on the shore ;— 

It is the missionary hymn of souls 
Prepared for their long journey, just before 

They leave for Earth. How sweet the music rolls ! 
Oh, list ! — The babes awake ; with wild surprise 
They move their arms, and earthward bend their eyes. 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 



HYMN OF THE GUARDIAN SPIRITS. 

1. 

" Little Spirits ! life is dawning, 
Where the mundane coasts appear : 

Little Spirits ! lo! the morning 
Of existence reddening near ! 

2. 

" On the hill-tops, on the mountains 
Smiling creeps the golden day : — 

We have brought you from the fountains 
And the gardens far away : 

3. 

" We have brought you over the billows 
Of the boundless, heavenly sea : 

On our bosoms for your pillows 
Have we held you lovingly. 



74 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO II. 



" Ye are holy, ye are fearless 

Coming pure from God's own hands ; 
Ye are happy, ye are tearless 

As the blissful, cherub bands : 

5. 

" But existence lies before you 
On Probation's dusty plain ; 

Good and evil bending o'er you, 
Trials, temptings, joys and pain. 

6. 

*' Seek the good and shun the wicked ; 

'T is the only rule of life ; — 
God will guide you over the picked. 

Thorny fields of human strife. 

7. 
" Life is short and time is fleeting ; 

Good or evil, ere a day. 
Backward will your wings be beating, 

Backward to eternity ! 



CANTO II.] CHILDE HARVARD. 75 

8. 

*' Go, improve the golden season, 

Go, improve it while ye may : — 
Sowing seeds of truth and reason, 

Ye shall reap eternal day ! 

9. 

" Little Spirits ! life is dawning, 
Where the mundane coasts appear : 

Little Spirits ! lo ! the morning 
Of existence reddening near ! " 



CHILDE HARVARD, 



CANTO III. 

" The custom of conveying instruction by dreams or visions. 
Channing. 

" Bask' ithi, oule Oneire ! ... Be d'ar Oneiros." — Homeb. 

" Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif." — Gothe. 



CHILDE HARVARD, 



CANTO III. 

"The custom of conveying instruction by dreams or visions." - 
Chanking. 

" Bask' ithi, oule Oneire ! ... Re d'ar Oneiros." — Homer. 

" Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif." — Gothe. 

I. 

The hymn hath ceased ; and all at once, — as when 
A new-fledged brood of " bobolinkums," starting 

From their high nest, before the approach of men. 
Try their unpractised wings, — those infants, parting 

In all directions, seek the earth below. — 

"Observe them," cried the Vision, " where they go: 



80 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

II. 

*' 'T is curious to mark their wandering, 

Their chance-directed courses and their fates : 

This finds the body of an infant king 

Or queen of . . . England . . .or The United States; 

That, seeks the Hottentots ; while others, go, — 

Poor things ! — To Ireland and the Esquimaux ! 

III. 

** There, two, as if by crazed predestination, — 
Alike in beauty, size and color — hand in 

Hand downward go to some far-off Plantation ; 
The one to be a slave, the other standing 

Above him with the lash. While yet another 

Enters a body with no father and no mother ! 

IV. 

" Had they but reason and experience, — 

Which always come too late, — they 'd make a better 
Selection of their future residence. 

No doubt ; but marriages and births, they fetter 
A man just where he is 1 'T is vain to flutter : 
He had better eat, content, his ' bread and butter ; ' 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 81 

V. 

" And let the world roll round, till he rolls off it 

Into eternity ! All things, at last, 
"Will ' turn up ' right ; there is but little profit 

In grumbling over th' unalterable past ! 
What tho' 't is rather hard to see a fool 
Crowd out the man of brains ? — All is, keep cool! " 

VI. 

She said, and smiled, and all at once departed, 

" Taking French leave," and left me there suspended 

Between two worlds. I am not craven-hearted, 
But then I felt as though my days were ended 

All but. The rainbow swerves, and the piazza 

Trembles, and I . . . . quake worse than old Belshazzar ! 

VII. 

I never knew before how bad a feeling 

It is to " get the slip : " I had heard them say 

That it was terrible; but this revealing 
Of my condition, took me quite away 

From all composure, and I felt inclined 

To let her have a portion of my mind : 



i 



82 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

VIIT. 

Then I bethought me of the pledge which she 

Had left behind ; I mean that magic eye 
Of hers, — or what had so been feigned to be. 

" Return, fair one ! " I shouted lustily, 
" Return and take your eye 1 " — A voice far under 
The rainbow bridge, replied, " Please, go to thunder ! 

IX. 

That eye was all a hoax ; she made you think it 
Was hers, most verdant youth ! If you 're inclined 

To do so, you may stay up there and wink ity 
Forever and forever, till you find 

Out your mistake ! — All are not angels, who 

Look finely and say pretty things to you ! " — 



My head began to whirl ; I fell, confounded. 

Back on the couch ! — When next the power of seeing 

Returned, I saw her, and her waist surrounded 

By a tall student's arm ! " Oh ! treacherous being! " 

I cried, " Once rescued from this perilous plight, 

I trust no more those phantoms of the night ! " 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 83 

XI. 

But then it was a sort of satisfaction — 
Although I pitied her — to know that she 

Would get her pay. There always is a reaction 
On those who perpetrate such villany. — 

(Kind reader, you must keep in mind, that this all 

Is but a dream, and not a real miss-fall.) 

XIT. 

Well, now such was my elevated condition. 

That I had nothing else to do, but just 
Sit there, and see her flirt her own perdition ! 

(" Whatever is, is right : " even the worst ! ?) — 
That Student was a fine young man, his mother 
And father's only son : (they had no other !) 

XIII. 

They loved their son, of course, and wished to make him 
An ornament to his country and a blessing 

To them. — They little thought what snares would take him 
On every hand ; and yet they gave a lesson 

To him, before he went, "full of wise saws," — 

They gave a Bible and *' The College Laws," 



84 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

XIV. 

And left the rest to Providence. But ah ! 

It seems as though some people were predestined 
To act like fools, especially when far 

From home and all restraint ; and thus the best end 
Of life is worse than wasted ; and per force 
Of circumstance waste all their college course. 

XV. 

I said, his parents loved him, both his mother 

And father with all parental tenderness. 
They loved too much ; they taught him to love other 

People, — by too much fondling — scarcely less 
Than they loved him : this always was the case, 
When he beheld a fair, young female face : 

XVI. 

And such was Nancy's. (Nancy was the name, 

I think one canto was begun with, but 
She was no dream.) I tell you how I came 

To find it out. I dreamed, the Student ^' got 
Sent off from College," for some secret crime ; 
And when far off, he penned this tuneful rhyme : 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 



85 



TO NANCY. 

" O ! (Nancy) luce carior. " — Virgil, 

" Come, gentle muse, inspire my song, 
And push my clumsy words along, 
While I reclining 'neath the shade. 
At leisure sing my Cambridge maid. 

CHORUS. 

" Were you with me, my Nancy O, 
To ' rusticate ' and fancy, O ! 
How swift the day would wear away 
With you, my Cambridge Nancy O ! 

" My Nancy's eyes of laughing blue 
Were clearer than the sky in hue. 
And glistened like a shining star ; 
Like Venus or the god of war. 
Were you with me, &c. 



86 CHILDE HARVARD [cANTO III. 

" Her cheeks were as the blushing rose 
That in my Nancy's garden blows ; 
Her lips were as the myrtle sweet — 
How oft with mine they used to meet ! 
Were you with me, &c. 

*' The ringlets of her golden hair, 
That flowed around her neck so fair, 
Were brighter than the golden west, 
When summer's sun goes down to rest. 
Were you with me, &c. 

" The graces of her pillowy breast, 
That swelled beneath the envious vest. 
What mortal song might e'en portray. 
That rolls not smooth and fair as they ? 
Were you with me, &c. 

'' My Nancy used to stroll with me 
And sit beneath the shadowy tree, 
(My arm around her slender waist ; 
Her snow-white arm my neck embraced.) 
Were you with me, &c. 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 87 

'' How sweet the moments used to pass 
When I was with my Cambridge lass, — 
When seated there beneath the shade, 
When mutual love our stay delayed ! 
Were you with me, d^c. 

" And there we talked and there we sung ; 
Nor minded we the bells that rung; — 
And if we parted with a kiss, 
'T was but to dream of future bliss. 
Were you with me, &c." 



XVII. 

Fathers, there 's nothing half so deleterious 
To " under-graduates," as too much money : — 

(I speak what I have seen, not felt.) 'T is serious 
For one to surfeit him, even with honey, 

Or any other sweet, deceitful thing : — 

Money, — it is the Student's ruining ! 



88 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

XVIII. 

" No man can serve two masters ; he will either ; " — 
You know the rest; 'tis even so with Pleasure 

And Science : who seeks both, will find that neither 
Amounts to much; the one, is squandered treasure ; 

The other, sham. — Many a son has been 

Borne back home, " dead . . . in trespasses and in sin,'' 

XIX. 

Simply because his father, in his folly, 

Supplied him with the means, to ''ride out," "spree," 
And *' act the rowdy," and be styled " a jolly 

Fellow." He will not study, but must see 
The world and feel its pleasures, or else be at a 
" Model Artistes' " performance, or a theatre ! 

XX. 

^^ wonder that he goes ; for " money," Say says, 

*' Serves as the lubricating fluid to the 
Wheels of society : " and those gay places, — 

The home of dissipation, and the Fury, 
Called Fashion, — were it not for money, would not 
Be visited ; simply because they could not. — 



CANTO HI.] ClIILDE HARVARD. 89 

XXI. 

Am I not moralizing 1 — yet, perhaps, 

It may do good. — But I was dreaming, and 

The dream must end. Tread lightly on your taps, 
My blue-eyed muse ; tread lightly through the land 

Of dreams ; think not to press your tender heels 

Into *' the sands of time," and hear the peals 

XXII. 

Of after generations' windy praises : — 

'T is better far to live an honest man, 
And, when you die, look up and see the daisies 

Only upon your grave, — 't is better than, — 
Like CsBsar, to be great, and, having crushed 
The world, bear tons of marble on your groaning dust ! 

XXIIT. 

Remember, I was up in that piazza 

Between two worlds; and she, — that flirting Vision, — 
Was promenading with the Student, as a 

Couple of dancers, waltzing — not division, 
I mean, enough between them : — (waltzing is a 
Danga-ous dance; it makes young people dizzy; 



so CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

XXIY. 

And then, they sometimes fall ; and then, you know, 
This brings a scandal on all other dances 

Among the Puritanic ; those who go, 

Rightly, for ancient customs, not for France's; 

And hence, I recommend the good old fashioned 

Dancings; these waltzes are too much impassioned ! 

XXV. 

Besides, it always seemed to me as if a 

Beau 'd break a young belle's back, to yerk her round 
In such a perilous twirl, were it not stifFer 

Than it appears to be, and tightly bound 
With stays together, like the rigging of a 
Tall ship.) — But then she never fears her lover : 

XXVI. 

'Twas even so with Nancy ; she was walking 

Calmly — not coolly though — with that tall Student, 

As I have just described ; and they were talking 
Soft, tender things, no doubt, and most imprudent 

Alike for both. 'Twas dusk ; " the moon was rising," 

Of course, with virgin blush, — 't was not surprising ! 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 91 

XXVII. 

I should have blushed myself, had I not been 

All-boiling-over-full of indignation, — 
Which swallows up all other reddening, — 

At this my sky-high, rocking, dizzying station ! 
I should have sworn ; — but then no gentleman 
Will ever swear, but hold in, if he can ! 

XXVIII. 

'' Confound the girl ! " I said ; " Confound the fuss ! " — 
Then, all at once, the scene was changed ; I dreamed 

I saw them in a Cambridge omnibus ; — 

And then " the buss " tipt over ! and she screamed ; 

But 'scaped unharmed ; — and then, — Oh ! it was cruel, — 

That very week, I dreamed, they fought a duel. 

XXIX. 

It seems that he had sent a hillet-doux 

To her, which some one else had intercept, 

And written, in its stead, a letter to 

Nancy of quite a different kind, and kept 

The real one ; and Nancy wrote in turn 

To him, these ''thoughts that breathe and words that burn :" 



92 CHILDE HARVAKD. [cANTO III. 

XXX. 

" Oh ! most unfeeling, cruel, treacherous felloxo I 
You wrote ; 't is done ! and I have done with thee ! " 

Alas ! my heart ! — H is melting notv, like tallow, 
With unextinguishahle love ! III be 

Revenged ! — And like a man of honor, cruel 

Young man, I challenge you to fight a duel ! .' / " 

XXXI. 

The Student was no coward. To refuse 
Was not his nature. Now in all such cases 

The challenged have the privilege to choose 

The weapons, their own seconds, times and places : 

And he, of course, in knightly, classic phrase 

Wrote back to her th' acceptance, time and place : 

XXXII. 

"My own sweet Nancy ! if it be that thou 
Art thirsting for my blood, and seekest to kill 

Me dead, thy will be done ; and I will bow 
Submissively : this very night, I will, 

At set of sun, meet thee, and thou sJialt take 

^^Pop-squirtSi^'* and fight with me on 'Cambridge Lake f " 



CANTO III.] CHII.de HARVARD. 93 

XXXIII. 

True to their word, the furious lovers met 

To quench their mutual rage, in that unknown 

Fantastic way. The golden sun had set 
Far in the west. Unseconded, alone, 

The two young duellists were in a boat, 

And on the centre of the pond afloat. 

XXXIV. 

Oh ! God ! and can it be that each of two. 

Who have such mutual hate, should wish to give 

To each a chance to blow each other through 
The brains or heart? — I should prefer to live 

By all means, — but, if I must die, 'twould be 

Foolish to do 't, to phase an enemy ! 

XXXV. 

Fighting is dreadful silly; — but a battle 

Is much more sensible than duelling; 
The first is like a slaughter-house of cattle 

And sheep and hogs, wherein a Prince, or King, 
Or President, are butchers, and do not 
Butcher themselves with bombs and swords and shot ; 



94 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

XXXVI. 

Nor rush to sudden death. Instead of going 
To fight ; they stay at home, to oversee ! — 

To use a homely phrase ; they " do the hoeing '* 
Per alios ; under some shadowy tree 

They smoke, and, while " the boys " bring hills and dirt, 

To them, they hoe the corn ; — 't is sweaty work ! — 

XXXVII. 

But then, they reap the harvest, — glory, too ! — 
And the Historian will write it " brown ; " 

That battle was a second Waterloo ! 

Great man ! he knocked a Sister Nation down ! 

He killed her sons and daughters ! *' hanged" her eyes ! — 

And bore away immortal victories ! 

XXXVIII. 

Besides, there seems to be no other way 

To ''raise" our Presidents: we want to know 

Of what their skulls are made ; for in our day 
There are so many formed of yielding" dough," 

'Tis best to choose one whose thick cranium 

Cannot be fractured by a hostile bomb ! 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 95 

XXXIX. 

Again, beside our martial President, 

There must be under-officers, whose duty 

It is to legislate, and represent 

The People. Warriors must be paid in booty, 

Money, or honors ; hence I would suggest, 

(I trust the Nation, too, will deem it best,) 

XL. 

That we elect ''The Volunteers'' to all 

Our minor offices ; they all are '' ready " 
And ''rough,'' like "Zac," — to meet their Country's call: 

All unemploy'd, and more, they 're sometimes steady ! — 
Cambridge and Boston, listen ! choose your Mayors 
From those bold Mexicanian-woman slayers ! 

XLI. 

They fought our battles for us, glorious fellows ! 

They revelled in the " Halls of Mexico ! " 
They saved our Country's honor from the gallows ! 

They struck ! they laid our proud invaders low ! — 
Shall we, by " base ingratitude," repay 
Those lofty souls, whom bullets would not slay 1 



96 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

XLIL 

Hear me ! my Country ! — " Hear me for my cause ! " 
You must have officers ; and who ? ay, who, — 

If not the great defenders of your laws, — 
Deserve to make them? — Webster never blew 

A man's brains out ; he 's a Civilian ; we 

Must have a man, who has stabbed, at least, one enemy ! 

XLIII. 

What though he cannot read, nor speak, nor write ? — 
There are enough who can, and who will give 

Him aid, and " write his letters ! " — He can Jight ; 
'Tis all we want, — a strong Executive ! — 

'T is false to say that knowledge, intellect, 

Experience and so forth, can protect ! 

XLIV. 

I am no politician ; but I feel, 

Sometimes, a little kind of patriotic : 
I wish well for my country's highest weal, 

And fain would save her from the dark, chaotic 
Regions, to which she 's rushing, like an ass ! — 
Warriors ! to arms! — three cheers for *'Zac" and Cass!— 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 97 

XLV. 

But where are our young duellists ? — Alack ! 

We left them in the midst of " Cambridge Lake ; " 
And night was gathering round them fast and black : 

But night, nor dew, nor waters could not slake 
Their rage. No, had the lake been thick with ice, 
And not yet thawed by beams of beauteous eyes, 

XLVL 

They still had raged. — There was a perfect calm ; 

The boat lay still ; and they were gazing; he 
In Nancy's eyes ; while she leaned on his arm, 

In all her round voluptuosity. 
Gazing on him ! Their gaze was silent, sad, — 
A gaze pugnacious, amorous, fearful, mad ! 

XLVII. 

Men are uncommonly polite, 't is said. 

And shake hands, just before they fight a duel. — 

I never saw a calf knocked in the head. 

Without a shriek : how could I bear so cruel 

A sight as this, I feared, would soon disgrace 

New England's fairest, shadyest watering place? 
7 



98 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

XLVIIL 

I raised my eyes aloft ; a cloud, between 
Me and the earth, hid all the fearful sight. 

I thanked my stars ; and on the fairy scene 
Of that piazza gazed with " wild delight." 

It was a princely place, and every part 

Adorned %ith pearls and gems and works of art. 

XLIX. 

Statues and paintings charmed the wondering eye ; 

And many a scene historic graced the wall, 
The poet and the painter seemed to vie 

Upon the self-same canvass, for they all 
Had gilded frames, whose golden letters told, 
Descriptive of the piece, some legend high and old. 

L. 

One there was there, — I seem to see it now ; — 

It was an antique picture, and it bore. 
Inscribed around, this unknown legend, how 

This Western Continent, long years before 
The Flood, was peopled. — 'T was a simple tale, 
Descriptive of the landing and the setting sail : 



CANTO III.] CIIILDE HARVARD. 99 



DOLDO AND DADA. 



In earliest time, — 

A tale sublime : — 
On Europe's western coast 

Two lovers strayed, 

As the evening shade 
Led forth the starry host. 

Young amorous pair : 

The youth was fair ; 
The maid, a beautiful Eve, — 

Why sadly talk 

They, as they walk ? — 
Love was not born to grieve. 

"Ah! Dada ! " — siahed 

The youth, *' my bride 
Thou can'st not be ! " and placed 

His arm around 

Her neck ; she wound 
Her arm around his waist. 



100 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

'* Our fathers are 

At deadly war, 
Thou know'st ! This very day 

He called me near, — 

Thou do 'st not hear ! — 
Ah ! hast thou swooned away ! 

" Speak, Dada, speak ! — 

Thy glowing cheek 
Was never cold before ! " — 

'* Go on my dear," 

She sighed, " I hear, 
But soon shall hear no more ! " 

" A father's curse 

Had parted us : 
This very day he swore ; 

'Take Dada's hand. 

And house and land 
And home thou hast no more ! ' 

" But I will be 

A home to thee ! " 
The tearful Dada cries ; 

'* The world is wide, 

And on the tide 
A father's friijate lies ! 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 101 

" Ah ! threeply worse 

A father's curse 
I, too, have shared : ' Thy life ' 

This day he swore, 

' Shall be no more. 
The hour thou 'rt Doldo's wife ! ' 

*' Wilt fly with me? 

Far in the sea 
There lies an island fair : 

Three nights ago 

I dreamed it so, 
And you and I were there ! " 

**Ah! Dada!" cried 

The youth, " My bride. 
Thou 'rt worth a thousand farms ! 

And more than this 

Of earthly bliss 
Crave not these clasping arms ! " — 

Strained to his heart 

No more to part 
He holds fair Dada now. 

Thus on the beach 

Each vows to each, 
And kisses seal the vow. 



102 CHILDE HARVARD. [CANTO III. 

The stars above 

Record their love ; 
Record their nuptial vow : — 

In ancient days 

Were shorter ways 
Of marrying than now. 

*' Full of supplies 

The frigate lies ; 
My father's men, to-morrow, 

Sail ere the dawn ; — 

* She 's lost ! she 's gone ! ' 
They '11 wail, I ween, to-morrow ! " 

He said; and bore 

Far from the shore 
Fair Dada round his neck : 

He stems the tide, 

He bears his bride ; — 
They reach the frigate's deck. 

No sailor there ; — 

The anchor's care 
Was all that kept the ship : — 

The rope with brave 

Soul cut, he gave 
His father-land the slip ! 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 103 

He hoists the sails ; — 

Strong eastern gales 
Blow freshly from the shore ; — 

And ere the day 

They are far away, 
And never were heard of more ! 



1 1. 

Till once, it is said, as the morning red 

Shone over the Western World, 
The frigate appeared : — wild animals feared 

And back to the forest whirled. 

At first but a speck ; but soon on the deck 

Brave Doldo was seen, and another ; 
'T was Dad a, and pressed to her beautiful breast 

Twin infants, for she was a mother. 

Their dangers are o'er ; they are safe on the shore. 

No mortal to tyrannize o'er them : 
What more could they ask than in pleasures to bask 

Of a continent stretching before them ? 



104 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

And many a year, twin infants they rear 

To people this wilderness then ; 
Till Dada had died, and close by her side 

Lay he, the oldest of men. 

And it came to pass, as they danced on the grass, 

That the virgins were fair to behold 
In the eyes of the men ; and they married them then 

Before they were twenty years old. 

And they multiplied fast, and the wilderness passed 

Away with its terrors and frowns ; 
And fair as the rose, the Continent blows 

With fields and with gardens and towns. 

And cities they built, and mansions begilt, 
And temples that reached to the skies; 

And they worship and sing till the corridors ring ; — 
And odors and incense arise. 

And war was unknown; the bugle unblown. 
And the drum rolled not for the battle ; 

No armies' alarms; no clashing of arms; 
No loud artillery's rattle. 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 105 

No inordinate lust called "dust unto dust," 
Ere their lives were but half of a span ; 

But they lived till they died, and lost not the pride 
Of godlike, in.maculate man! 

Too blissful to last, like a vision they passed, 

The antediluvian times ! 
Ah ! bright was the day, but it faded away 

In a night of delusion and crimes ! 



LI. 



There was another picture there ; it seemed 
To move with life; a sad, celestial story, 

As though the poet and the painter dreamed 
Together one long, soul-like allegory. 

It was a mournful, but ins r ici.ve strain; 

The scene far west of Paradise, — the birth of cain 

Their swords of fire, the angel choir 

Were waving in the skies. 
At evenina's fall, hioh o'er the wall 

Of guarded Paradise ; 



106 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

And as they sung — on rainbows swung — 

Of justice and of love, 
Though mortal ear no sound could hear, 

Their notes were heard above ; — 
(For spirit sounds may have no bounds. 

On heavenly ether borne. 
Until they reach the farthest beach 

Of endless space, where morn 
With evening meets, and Chaos beats 

With his blue surges far 
Beyond the home where comets roam, 

Or shines a twinkling star ; 
Or till they meet and mingle sweet 

With music of the spheres, 
That humming through the vaulted blue, 

Sound sweet in heavenly ears ; 
But none may hear save angel's ear 

And spirits of the blest. 
Whom oft, 'tis said, on azure bed, 

It sweetly lulls to rest ;) 
While thus they sung, o'er Eden swung, — 

Far on her natal globe. 
From slumber broke and dreaming woke 

The goddess Hope, with robe 



CANTO in.] CHILDE HARVARD. 107 

From shoulders thrown, amazed, alone 

Did list the silver chime. 
One tear she shed, and swiftly sped 

To earth's far distant clime. 
Swifter than thought with fancy fraught, 

Sweet messenger of love, 
She wings her way, and e'er the day, 

Descending from above, 
Brought dusky night, she ends her flight 

Far west of Paradise, 
Where Adam stood in pining mood, 

And Eve with tearful eyes 
Sat on the sod late cursed of God, 
Her first born in her arms, — 
A new-born child that had not smiled 

Upon a mother's charms ; 
But ever wept and never slept 

In slumbers calm and deep — 
Yet still would cry (they knew not why,) 

But deemed it born to weep. 
** Is this the lot that all begot 

By me are doomed to bear 1 " 
The father cried, " would we had died 
E'er he 'd inhaled the air ! 



108 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

Then woe and pain our infant Cain 

(And for a parent's crimes,) 
Had never shared, and millions spared 

Had been in after times! " 
But tearful Eve alone could grieve, — 

Her heart too big within; 
Her dewy eye made deep reply, 

She felt the curse of sin. 
But closer pressed unto her breast 

She strained her infant now, 
And kissed away the bitter spray 

That fell upon his brow. 
*' Behold ! behold ! what form in gold 

And heavenly radiance dressed, 
(As fair to view as first I knew 

Thee in the garden blessed,) 
Approaches now, with placid brow, 

Like those in Paradise 
We used to meet 1 Prepare to greet 

The guest with cheerful eyes." 
He scarce had spoke and silence broke 

To his afflicted love. 
E'er borne on wings dipt in the springs 

Of diamond founts above, 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 109 

The Goddess came, whilst ambient flame 

Played gentle round her head, 
And with a face all heavenly grace, 

'T was thus she smiling said : 
" Hail, noble pair ! as angels fair, 

Sole lords of beauteous earth ! 
Why may ye weep in sadness deep, 

When fresh as at its birth. 
All nature smiles, and e'en beguiles, 

By 'ts witching loveliness, 
Of blooming flowers and vocal bowers, 

The spirits down from bliss ? 
Earth was not made and thus arrayed 

In robes of living light, 
That ye should weep, — it was to keep 

Your hearts as cheerful, bright. 
And fair and fresh (though human flesh,) 

As nature's face benign. 
Away with sadness ! for 't is madness 

To murmur and repine ! " 
While yet she spoke, behold ! there broke 

From out a shady grove 
A timid deer ; and bounding near, 

A monster lion strove 



110 CHILDE IIARVAIID. [cANTO HI. 

To reach his prey ; now far away 

The nimble buck has fled. 
Back to his den the lion then 

Turned his fierce, shaggy head. 
"And such the pride," thus Adam cried, 

*' Of mortal, earthly bliss ! 
'T is ever so ! where e'er we go 

Some bloody monster is ! 
'T was even thus, (O ruined us I ) 

While in the Garden yet 
We roamed, for there where pleasures are 

Found most, most ills beset ! 
'T were vain to fly ! 't were vain to try, — 

New snares each step attend ; 
The lion still will have his fill, — 
The lambkin must his end ! " 
Hope sweetly smiled, and answered mild, — 

" E'en now, escaped from fate, 
Behold the deer, secure from fear. 
Strays feeding with his mate. 
The lion's paw, the tiger's jaw, 

Harm not the harmless hare. 
Their wings shall guard from bloody pard 
The warbling birds of air. 



CAN'TO ill.] CHILDE HARVARD. Ill 

Shall reasoning man be v^oid of plan 

To escape from fancied ills 
Or those that be ! 't is easy, — flee 

Like roe-buck on the hills." 
She paused, and lo ! down bending low 

She plucked a budding rose, 
Sweet scented, and with fairy hand 

Held to the infant's nose 
The simple flower, whose magic power 

Lit up a dimple smile 
On lip and cheek, that seemed to speak 

Of inward joy the while. 
His baby arm to grasp the charm 

Forsook the mother's breast: 
He holds the rose, — his joy o'erflows, — 

His sobs are lulled to rest. 
Delighted stood in pensive mood 

The father of our race ; 
His bride and child before him smiled, 

And smiles played o'er his face. 
Hope saw and raised her wings that blazed 

With a celestial light, 
And once anew heaven-ward she flew, 

And melted from their sight. 



112 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

And where she went an arch was bent, 

Binding the heavens and earth, 
And seemed a way where souls might stray 

From first to second birth. 
And the angel choir, whose swords of fire 

Were waving in the skies, 
At evening's fall, high o'er the wall 

Of guarded Paradise, 
No more were seen with dreadful sheen 

Of flaming brands on high ; — 
They too had fled and backward sped 

To homes above the sky. 



LII. 



There was another saddening landscape there, — 
Which made me weep only to look upon ; — 

An old, decrepit man, with silvery hair 

And trembling limbs, ('t was at the set of sun,) 

Leaned on his staff"; and with a mournful look 

Thus chided with his boyhood's babbling brook : 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 113 

" Cease, fair brooklet, cease thy roaring ! 

Cease one moment, while I tell thee 
Who I am, that, here deploring. 

On thy banks would now address thee. 

" Cease, fair brooklet, cease thy roaring ! 

You and I were young together — 
Now life's sun is swiftly lowering ; 

Dark and gloomy grows the weather ! 

" Cease, fair brooklet, cease thy roaring ! 

White and frozen winter chills me — 
Why should snows be on me pouring, 

While the Spring with flowerets fills thee ! 

'' Cease, fair brooklet, cease thy roaring ! 

Once I loved thy childish prattle ; 
Now it sounds like one deploring 

Youth and beauty slain in battle ! 

" Cease, fair brooklet, cease thy roaring, 

Did I bid thee 1 Never, never ! 
But, beside my grave still pouring. 

Dance and prattle roaring ever ! " 
8 



1 14 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO HI. 

LTIT. 

I dropt a tear, and turned aside to view 

A large historic picture, that was hung 
High on my left. — But sudden, as I drew 

Nigh it, the bridge shakes ! and an unknown tongue 
Salutes my ears ! — I turned to gaze upon 
The ghost, — it was the Cambridge Mastodon ! 

LIV. 

''Angels and ministers of grace, defend us ! " 

I shrieked. She stood in silence on me gazing; — 

A most gigantic ghost, with wings stupendous, 

And eyes that were like two great comets blazing ! — 

"Young man !" she said, with a sarcastic frown, 

'' The Faculty have sent me here to bring you down ! 

LY. 

'' The Proctors have reported you for being 

Tardy at prayers! " Thus, with a genuflexion, 

She spake, and bade me mount. I did so, seeing 
That I was " sent for " from that dread direction ! — 

She spreads her wings, and, like a monstrous hawk, 

Sails through the night, but cheers the way with friendly 
talk : 



CANTO III.l CHILDE HARVARD. 115 



'' 'T will take us nearly half an hour to go 

To Cambridge City : — should you wish to know 

My history, — unknown to mortal man, — 

Listen : — I am an Antediluvian ! 

I saw the everlasting waters rise, — 

Mountains descend, and ocean lift the skies ; — 

The monsters of the deep usurp the place. 

Where guilty man had reigned, and the sinless race 

Of animals ! — I heard the dying groans 

Of a drowning world, commingling with the tones 

Of heaven's artillery, rattling over the deep, 

Borne on by tempests in their maddening sweep ! 

While, like a band of Gabriels brandishing high 

Their flaming swords, fork'd lightnings split the sky ! 

Now like some lost, some damned, hideous soul. 

The Northern Lights danced towards the antarctic pole, 

Threading the waves ! — The very stars did weep. 

For grief, big tears that falling swelled the deep ! 

Mercy was deaf: the avenging angel strode 

Above the world : driven from their dark abode, 

Deep in the womb of earth, fiends rose and cried 

And howled and shrieked, awhile, along the tide. 

Seizing the spirits of drowning men, and bore 

Them to that world where floods shall drown no more ! 



116 CIIILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

II. 

" Now had the Avaters lifted high 
Above the world the floating sky : 
For forty days and forty nights 
The rain descended, and the heights 
Of all the mountains sank to be 
Lost in that world-embracing sea. 

But where was I ? and where those, 
Who with me on the waters rose ? 
For two there were : the one a fair 
Young girl, the chaste, the pure Gallnair. 
Her eyes were like the evening star ; 

Her lips sweet as the myrtle ; 
Her locks like sunset clouds afar ; 

Her voice soft as the turtle. 
She dwelt high on a mountain side, 
And kept me for herself to ride : 
On lofty pannel raised on high 
I bore her 'twixt the earth and sky ; 
And, as we bounded over the plains. 
She cheered the way with tuneful strains : 
At morn we sought the mountain height. 
And scoured the plains in the evening light. — 
She only chaste and pure remained, 
When here the mighty Deluge reigned. — 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. Ill 

The floods arose ; she mounted me, 
Her refuge on that boundless sea. 
But who was he now at her side ? 
A youth, who had sought her for his bride. 
In vain ; but when the rains descended, 
She pitied him, and thus befriended. 

I bore them up, and paddled round 
For forty days, nor touched the ground. — 
The sun breaks forth at last, and hark ! 
They shout, '' a ship ! " — 'T was '' Noah's Ark.^ 



" 'T was supper time : all, saving Ham, 
Had gone to prayers and down to cram. 
He stands alone high on the deck. 
And softly hails the floating speck. 
He deemed the maid exceeding fair. 
And longed to save the chaste Gallnair. 
He throws to her a twisted rope, 
And bids her grasp her only hope. 
She seizes it. Ham pulls ; her lover. 
While helping, hoisting her, fell over ! — 
Him Ham cared not so much to save. 
And left him to a watery grave ; 



118 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO III. 

But in the top-loft of the ship 
He hides Gallnair, the rosy-lip ! — 
Nor Noah nor, Shem, nor Japhet knew 
Of this addition to the crew : 
But well they noticed every day, 
That Ham stole off, and used to stay 
Long time alone ; they knew not why, 
But deemed it wondrous piety. 

IV. 

" Now sailing on directly west, — 
The Rocky Mountains show their crest. 
But, ah ! alas ! for poor Gallnair ! — 
Noah's sons had found that she was there, 
And told their sire; who orders Ham 
To send her into the mighty dam, 
From whence she came ; for it was made 
To drown the world and every maid ! 
'* Oh ! save they<2/r .' dear father save 
This spouse of mine a watery grave ! " 
Cries Ham. — Frowning, old Noah replied, 
** I know her not ! she is no bride ! — 
Lo ! there thy only partner stands, 
With rolling eyes and lifted hands. " — 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. Ill) 

Ham answering, weeps, " father, 'tis true. 
She is one wife — and this makes two / " — 
" One wife's enough ! " growls Noah, and so 
Must this wild ocean mermaid go ! 

V. 

" Amen ! " cry Ham's wife, Shem and Japhet; 

And in their stony hearts not a bit 

Of pity dwelt. — Ham scarce could speak, 

Before they placed her on the peak 

Of the Rocky Mountains, towering now 

Well nigh the Ark, before the prow ! 

On shoots the Ark ; but as they go, 
Ham from the stern with manly throw 
Sends her a keg of crackers, and 
Raisins and cheese, waving his hand. — 

On sailed the Ark, until it sat 
High on the side of Ararat. 
I saw it fading in the west, 
And went to my eternal rest. 
I died, and floated everywhere. — 
But would' st thou know how fared Gallnair ? 
She lived, and as the waters fell, 
She left the mountain for the dell. 



120 CHILDE HARVARD. [CANTO III. 

She sought a warm secluded place ; 
Great Mother of the Indian race' 

VI. 

" Now when the earth was nearly dry, 

High on a hemlock rested I, 

An hundred fathoms in the sky ! 

Bees in my body built their hive : 

Even though dead, I seemed alive. — 

At last a terrible tempest came : 

Loud thunders roar ; fork'd lightnings flame ! 

The hemlock broke, — a frightful crash ! 

My body fell with ponderous plash 

Deep into the mud below, and stuck 

For ages in New Jersey muck ! 

But all, who are in their graves, shall rise 
And wipe the dust out of their eyes ! 
My time, at last, I felt was coming ; 
I knew it by an ominous humming. 
They dug me up ! — The first of all 
My tribe, I graced a College wall ! " 



CANTO III.] CHILDE HARVARD. 121 

LVL 

She ended ; and I heard a frightful pounding ? — 
It was the Goody, with her " broom and pail." 

The bell for morning prayers had long been sounding ! 
She says, " what makes you look so very pale ? " — 

'' I ve had a dream." — " Spring to 't, or you '11 be late I " — 

*' Do'nt care ! 'T was worth ''a part" among ihe"Second 
Eight ! " — 

LVII. 

This, doubtless, was one of the longest dreams, 
I ever dreamed : 't was quite too long ; but then 

'T was better to do this, than to write themes 

That might have better pleased the thoughtless train, 

Or even those self-righteous souls, who love 

The shameful thing, and yet the thing reprove ! 



CHILDE HARVARD. 



CANTO IV. 

Lives of ffreat men all remind us." — Longfellow. 



J 



CHILDE HARVARD, 



CANTO IV. * 

" Lives of great men all remind us." — Longfellow. 

I. 

City of Science, dust, and trees ! thy shades, 

Thy classic walks, thy winding stream, — thy lake. 

The haunt of Muses or of Cyprian maids, — 

"Porter's," "Mount Auburn," and the like; — 'twill take 

One canto more, at least, to tell thy story, 

And to embalm Childe Harvard in a cloud of glory ! 



126 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

II. 

We left the little fellow rudely " crammed,^' — 
Two cantos back, — into the Student's pocket, 

Streaking like mist ! — Much were his young limbs jammed 
From side to side ; for, like some golden locket 

On a fair dancing maiden's breast, he flew, 

This way and that, through Cambridge dust and dew ! 

III. 

Long was the race : " it suits me not to tell," 

How far, nor through what varied scenes he passed. 

In that dark night ; — what " hair-breadth scapes " befel, 
What " movi?ig accidents." — A veil is cast 

Around it all. Some loftier bard, ere long, 

Ma2/ solve the mystery in high dactylic song ! — 

IV. 

Mine be the lowlier task of simply telling 
The tale " as it was told to me." My muse. 

That night, was sick, or absent, or was dwelling 
On loftier themes, or in Castilian dews 

Meandering : — she is like a swan in all 

Respects, except she cannot — sing at-all ! 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 127 



But then she feels melodious, and there is 
More music in her heart than on her tongue : 

*' The music of the spheres " is perfect bliss 
To her ; — she told me once, the stars were strung 

Together by a telegraphic wire ! — 

And I told her, she was a perfect — Lyre ! 

VI. 

She told me that Le Verrier was not 

Inhabited by men, but empty shades : — 
In ancient times the weather was so hot 

One summer there, that all the trees and blades 
Of grass were withered up ; and all the men 
And women melted into nothing then, 

VII. 

And beasts and birds !— all, save their ^^os^5, were drained! 

Awhile they grumbled at so wild and strange 
A freak of nature ; but have since remained 

Contented, for they find it takes less change 
To live without a body, than to keep 
It by devouring herbs and cows and sheep ! 



128 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV 

vin. 

There are innumerable other things 

That compensate their loss : — they need no clothes, 
Nor carriages ; (of course, they all have wings 

And talk in poetry instead of prose!) 
They need no presidents, nor kings ; they deem 
All equal, for all are exactly as they seem ; 

IX. 

And one man looks directly through another ! 

They cannot kill, having no flesh to stah ! 
They tried to fight, at first, but found it rather 

Hurt them, more than their foes. One sought to grab 
Another by the throat ; the other flew 
At him ; unharmed each passed the other through ! 



Oh ! that Republics, men and nations were 
Divested of their flesh, " and all the lusts 

Thereof," on earth ! — thus driven to prefer 
A Christian peace, to all the fiery bursts 

Of bloody war ! 'Tis vain : they still will beat 

And gash and gore and stab and tear each other's meat ! 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 129 

XI. 

Childe Harvard, — where was he ? 'T is only known 
That he was safely lodged, next day, by some 

Kind hand, without his mother, all alone. 

In Cambridge Alms House ; 't is the only home 

For strangers in the place ! — Through fear of sin. 

Or something worse, the Citi/ has no ^'public inn ! " 

XII. 

Childe Harvard screamed, as well he might, to see 
So many strangers ; and the Landlord wrote, 

Next morn, directed to the Faculty 
And President, this hasty, pithy note : 

** Whereas, instead of carrying to its ma'am's-house, 

Some cruel one has sent to Cambridge Aims-House, 

XIII. 

" A certain Child ; I warn the Faculty 
And all concerned, forthwith, to ascertain 

('T will save the town from rearing him, you see !) 
From whence he came ; and carry him back again ! ! 

If there be any known, or thought of; then 't is 

But just to make him stand * in loco parentis I ' 
9 



130 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO 

XIV. 

" The child was left, — it cannot be disputed, — 
In your domains ; and we have called his name, 

* Harvard,^ both from the place and his reputed 
Parents ; and you must either bear the shame, — 

You or some of your under-graduates, — or 

Support the child, and change his name by law ! " 

XV. 

These were hard terms, and most insinuating. 

And most derogatory to the boys 
And Faculty : — but every thing relating 

To conflagrations, rogueries and noise. 
Of course, the Students father ! — should a hay- 
Stack burn from lightning-hugs ! it would be they ! ! 

XVI. 

It is not fair ; and yet, should all the mothers 

Of Cambridge leave, — as soon as they were born, - 

Their infants in the College yard, no others 
Except the Students must endure the scorn ! — 

The Faculty resolved to nip, 't is said. 

The bud, and knock the subject in the head. 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 131 

XVII. 

'T was Monday night, and bright the lamps were shining, 
In many a cloistered room, — from " Massachusetts," 

" Hollis," " Holworthy," " Stoughton ; " — and reclining 
On cushioned couch, — as infants hold their new " tets 

Of sugar," — many a student held his book. 

Or his cigar, with meditative look. 

XVIII. 

The Faculty had just assembled, bearing 
Upon their lofty brows the marks of strong 

Resolve : they all had sworn, or now were swearing. 
To perish, or redress the shameful wrong ! 

Ah ! terrible the clash, when Greeks meet Greeks ! 

Listen, 't is he ; — behold him, where he speaks : 

XIX. 

" This is one of those elementary 

Occasions, Gentlemen, in which we sow 
Seeds that may spring up in eternity ! — 

To elevate the humble, and bring low 
The lofty, has been truly said to be 
The height of Art and Eloquence and Poetry. 



132 CHILUE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

XX. 

" You, Gentlemen, are doubtless, all aware 

That Tuesday night, between the hours of 'leven 

And twelve o'clock, ... a child . . . was left somewhere, — 
Abandoned to the guardian eye of Heaven, — 

Within the College yard ! — The City Powers, — 

Without a cause, I irustj — have called it ours ! 

XXI. 

" To rid ourselves of this disgrace, and hurl 

Suspicion to the winds, we must resolve 
To act like men. Be not like a timid girl 

Upon her bridal eve ! — reason, resolve^ 
Atjirst, like sages ; then, in calm debate, 
Let each his wise excogitations state. 

XXII. 

" You all have read the prolegomena, 

Sent by the City Powers, directed to 
The College, President and Faculty : — 

Few circumstances, in the long review 
Of centuries, — from Noah to Charlemagne, 
From Charlemagne to us, — have given me greater pain ! 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 133 

xxni. 

** A young . . . immortal . . . soul, in that frail casket — 

A tender infant's body — left alone 
Under the pump, laid in a little basket ; 

An infant, that, perchance, had graced a throne, — 
Had he been born, with more propitious stars, — 
Led * Senates at his heels,' and heard the World's huzzas ! — 

XXIY. 

" A young, immortal, soul, — thrown on the wide. 

Wild ocean of existence, to be cast 
By every storm and moon directed tide 

This way and that, the sport of every blast, — 
Demands our notice : — Pindar deigned to roll 
His verse in praise of horses ; an immortal soul, 

XXY. 

" Wherever it may be, should draw to it, — 
Even as the magnet points to where the ore 

Lies buried in the earth's embowelled pit, — 

All who have souls themselves. We ask no more. 

You, Gentlemen, I hope, will now discuss : — 

The child will soon arrive here in the omnibus." 



134 cniLDE HARVARD. [canto IV. 

XXVI. 

He ended ; and another arose ; his eye 

Was piercing as an eagle's, for he looks 
Upon the Sun, and threads immensity 

In thoughts, and writes its wonders in his books. 
Le Verrier ! " westward the star " of Science 
Has winged its way, and boldly bids the world defiance ! 

XXVII. 

" Shall we, — we Gentlemen of the Faculty, — 

Shall we (not can we, for no one denies 
Our powers) father all the infancy 

Of Cambridge ? or give heed to all the cries 
Of folly, ignorance and superstition 1 
If so, ours is an enviable condition ! 

xxvm. 

'' We're called upon to give an explanation 
As to the parents of the child ! — Here is 

' A manifest alsurdiiy ! ' — Th' equation 
Has, in \\\q first place, no known quantities ! 

And in the second place, I cannot see 

Even, as yet, one unknown quantity ! " 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 135 

XXIX. 

" One unknown quantify,^' replied the former, 

" Will soon arrive here in the omnibus : 
Till then, through fear the argument grow warmer 

Than might seem good, and wholly decorous ; — 
With your permission. Gentlemen, I may 
Amuse your fancies in a more fantastic way. 

XXX. 

"I hold here, in my hand, a document, — 

It has a distant bearing on the topic 
Before us now, — a poem, written and sent 

In hither, by our learned, philanthropic 
And most poetic friend ; who,- — I regret, — 
Is absent, owing to the mud and (Zez<)bious wet. 

XXXI. 

" ' Messieurs, mes tres cJiers Freres ! ' (this is a letter 

Of his to us,) ' I feel, I owe no slight 
Apology for absence ; were it better 

Walking, and I not indisposed, this night 
Would hear my voice, ' toujours riant,'' among 
You of the head and heart and classic tongue ! 



136 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

XXXII. 

" The only substitute, that I can send, 

Is this slight scroll, replete with airy fancies, 

Composed by me and by our mutual friend, — 
Who bends on Nature most poetic glances, 

And feels in her embrace, of roseate charms, 

A pleasure scarcely less than in his partner's arms ! — 

XXXIII. 

*' All, that is beautiful in Nature, fills us 
With rhapsodies ! we never see a beauty- 

Ful flower, or tree, or maiden, — but it thrills us 

With most delirious throbs ! — There is a Psuche, — 

A soul, — pervading all : it is that thing 

' Which moves itself; ' from whence all motions spring : 

XXXIV. 

'' It sets the embryo of the egg rotating 

About its nucleus ; it starts the flower 
And bud of every plant ; — the all-creating 

Agent of Him, who boundless is in power, 
Knowledge and love and majesty : — to feel 
Its presence every where, creates the poet's zeal. 



CANTO IV,] CHILDE HARVARD. 137 

XXXV. 

" You, Gentlemen, I know, can sympathize 

With us in this : you can appreciate 
Our little work ; and what the word denies 

You will not fail to give, — and please to state 
Your views accordingly. — Our humble Scroll 
Is called, 

'AN AFTERNOON MOUNT AUBURN STROLL.' 

" Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain ! " — Goldsmith. 

" Hence gifted bards 
Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades." — Longfellow. 

" The shapes, that haunt thy gloom, 

Make signs to us and move their withered lips 

Across the gulf of doom." — Lowell. 

XXXVL 

" It was a soul-like afternoon, in that 

Poetic month of August ; — flowery, quaint 

And dusty-hooded month. Alone I sat. 
Secluded, gazing at the clouds ; — a faint 

And scarcely audible whisper in my soul. 

Thus warned me forth to a meandering stroll : 



133 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

XXXVII. 

" ' Go, seek the village of the dead ! and learn 
From their hushed lips, the holy end of life : 

Let its umbrageous stillness quench the burn 
And the perpetual broil of human strife. 

Go! like the cowled monk, and silent nun, 

And meditate the trees and flowers and tombs among ! ' 

XXXVIII. 

** I heard the voice, and like the Apostle Paul, — 
When vision-smitten in his mad career, — 

' Not disobedient to the heavenly call,' 
I heard it as the voice of gray-beard Seer 

In medieval times ; and toward the shade. 

Half conscious and enrapt my gaitered footsteps strayed. 

XXXIX. 

" It was a soul-like afternoon ; the dust, — 

That ever present monitor to tell 
Us what we are, — like spirits of the just 

Upon the Judgment day, or floating tail 
Of flying peacock or the albatross. 
Filled all the air with golden clouds of sun-beam dross ! 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 139 

XL. 

*' Now had I reached the lofty entrance, high 
Upon whose sable cap-stone stands the text ; 

* For dust thou art / ' — my spirit heaved a sigh, 
To feel this world so awfully near the next ! — 

With thoughts of dissolution crowding fast 

Upon my soul, my footsteps through the portal passed. 

XLI. 

" My mind was dust and ashes, and I deemed 
Myself a creeping thing, — a chrysalis ! — 

When suddenly upon my vision beamed 

A form, that bore more of the world of bliss 

About her than of earth; and in my eye 

She seemed the chrysalis, changed to the butterfly ! 

XLII. 

"Others were there — but none so houri-seeming — 
With looks as gay and ball-room-like, as if 

There were no death, and all the living, teeming 
Millions of earth, were alway free from grief! 

She leaned upon a Student's arm ! — His eye 

Frowned on me as I passed — ' contempt of Faculty .'' " — 



140 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

XLTII. 

The reader paused, for there arose a rustling 

Among his auditors : just indignation 
Glowed fiercely on their brows. And there was bustling, 

And rising *' in hot haste," as 't were the nation 
Called them to arms 1 — One sprightlier than the rest 
Obtained the floor, and thus expulsive thoughts expressed £ 

*' Gods ! can a Cambridge senate long debate 

Which of the two to choose ; to bear an insult. 

Or turn a Student off! — Where is the shade 

Of Q,uin 1 — Where.are the spirits of our fathers, 

Those firm, unflinching heroes of the past. 

Whom all the fiends of hell united could not 

Drive from this platform of our constitution ? — 

Shall they, as they look down from their high homes. 

Behold us fickle, wavering as the wind? 

Believe it not ! Sirs, we will yet make known 

And seen and felt the vigor of our arms 

Invincible ! — the Students yet shall cow 

Before us, as the slender reed before 

The pelting whirlwind ! — What? — 'twas scarce a year 

Ago, when even a Senior, for his insolence 

Shown towards a Dignitary of the College, 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 141 

(Though slight and trivial in its nature when 

Compared with this) received forthwith his sentence; 

And, when the vote was put, even you did raise 

Your hands, and sanctioned it! — I call again 

Upon the fearless spirit ye there showed ! 

I do conjure you, in the name of all 

The unblemished dignity of other times, — 

Whose mantle, having fallen, rests on us — 

I do conjure you, that ye suifer not 

Contempt of College Faculty to go 

Unpunished ! I conjure you, that ye suffer 

No more the spirit of Catonian rigor 

Nightly to walk our streets complaining, and 

Accusing us of folly and remissness ! " — 



XLIV. 

He ended ; and another, with a smile 
Upon his milder brow, uprising, said : 

"Perhaps 'twere better that we pause awhile, 
Until the present document be read, 

Before we act." — It pleased them : and again 

They listened to the poet's mellow strain. — 



142 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV 

XLV. 

'^ I pass them ; and beneath the whispering pines, — 
Among whose pitchy, fragrant branches sings 

The blue-bird, and the shrill-keyed locust whines, — 
Am borne along by solemn thoughts, whose wings 

Spread wider ever, as I pierce the shade ; — 

When lo 1 the guardian bust of Bowditch lifts its head. 

XLVI. 

" The compass and the quadrant still ; the globe, — 
Whose trackless seas he taught to sail, — beneath 

His feet; the ^Mecanique Celeste; ' the robe 
Of veteran voyager, — all bespeak that death 

Has only borne him to a nobler state. 

Where Heaven's high seas his spirit still may navigate ! 

XLVn. 

" Oh, Death ! why should we fear thee so ? — Thou art' 
The parent of our souls ; thou hatchest them 

From out the egg of life : — the immortal part 
Might never reach the 'New Jerusalem,' 

Did'st thou not brood upon the egg-filled nest 

Of earth, with thy black, frightful wings and hollow breast. 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 143 

XLVIII. 

" There towers the Chapel, with its granite walls 
And many pointed spires. — I like it not ; 

Methinks a comelier dome should hold the palls 
Of those, who rest them in this holy spot ! — 

I left it, floating, as upon a sea 

Of flowery thought, and reached the grave of * Emily.' 

XLIX. 

" I love to meditate upon that sleeping 

And beautiful child ! How well it teaches me 

That death is but a balmy slumber, keeping 
Us for the morning of eternity ! 

How often, as I gaze, ray thoughtful heart 

Translates to me 

' THE flower's revenge,' 

From Freiligrat/i. 

' On the couch's downy cushion, 
Sleep surrounded, rests the maiden ; — 
Deeply sunk her auburn lashes. 
And her cheeks with purple laden. 



144 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

On the painted flower-stand glistening 
Sits the vase, the costly token ; 
In it flowers the many-tinted, 
Dew-besprinkled, freshly broken. 

Sultry air spreads damply brooding 
Through the room the flowers are laid in ; 
For the summer frights the coolness ; — 
Windows closed confine the maiden. 

Stillness round and deepest silence ! 
Sudden ! hark ! a gentle whisper ! 
In the blossoms, in the branches, 
Moves a rustling, wistful lisper. 

Forms of vapor from the flower-cups 
Float, like spirits light and airy ; — 
Tender mist their garments forming, 
Glittering crowns and bucklers wear they. 

From the purple rose's bosom 
Lifts herself a slender maiden ; 
Loosely float her fluttering ringlets, 
Bright with dewy pearl-drops laden. 

From the green and tawny leaflets 
Of the monk's-hood, fiercely beaming 
Treads a knight of dauntless spirit, — 
Sword and tufted helmet gleaming. 



CANTO IV,] CHILDE HARVARD. 145 

On his helmet nods the feather 
Of the gray and silvery heron. 
From the lily swings a damsel, 
Thin and gauze-like garments play on. 

From the cup of Turkey-turban 
Strides a Moor of lofty bearing ; 
High upon his greenish head-dress 
Glows the crescent brightly flaring. 

Glittering from the kaiser-krone 
Boldly shouts a sceptre-bearer ; 
From the azure Iris follow 
Many a huntsman, weapon wearer. 

From the foliage of Narcissus 
Floats a boy of gloomy feature ; 
Seeks the maid, and burning kisses 
Gives the sleeping, beauteous creature. 

Wildly whirling round the pallet 
In a dizzying circle swing they ; 
Whirl and sing, and to the sleeper 
These melodious measures sing they : 

" Maiden, maiden ! from the garden 
Hast thou cruel plucked and borne us, 
That we in the pictured vase may 
Pining perish, none to mourn us ! 
10 



146 CHILDE HARVARD. [CANTO IV, 

O, how rested we so blissful 
On earth's mother-bosom dreaming, 
Where the sun-light warmly kissed us, 
Through the verdant tree-tops gleaming; 

Where the freshening spring breeze cooled us, 
All our slender stalklets bending; 
Where, like fairies, nightly played we. 
From our leafy house ascending. 

Dew and rain flowed clearly round us ; 
Now the murky water drenches ; — 
We are fading ; — ere we perish. 
Maiden, vengeance on the clenches ! " 

Soundless fades the song ; — they bow to 
Her who sleepeth, lowly bending. 
In the dull and ancient silence 
Softly is the whisper ending. 

What a rustling, what a whispering ! 
How the maiden's cheeks are glowing ! 
How the spirits breathe upon her ! 
How the waving mists are flowing ! — 

As the sunlight hails the chamber. 
Forth the spirit forms have started. — 
On the couch's cushion slumbers 
Loveliest of the fair departed. 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 147 

She herself, a wilted floweret, 
By her wilted mates reposes; 
Still her cheeks are slightly rubied ; — 
Slaughtered by the scent of roses ! ' 



L. 

" * Shed not for her the bitter tear ; ' I read 
Too late ; for tear-refracted rainbows gild 

My eyes. — I leave her on her marble bed, 
Turning away. — The very air seemed filled 

With the sweet breath of flowers ; the oaks overhead 

Chanted with leafy tongues a requiem for the dead ! 

LI. 

" Onward I passed to where the great-souled martyr, 
Bold breaker of the captive's chain, the friend 

Of the unfriended, — he, who would not barter 
His conscience off, choosing a felon's end, — 

Reposes. Torrey, bitter was thy cup. 

But it has passed away ; thy jewels are made up 



148 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV 

LH. 

'* In heaven ! How sweet the memory, that we 

Have knocked one shackle from the suffering slave ! 

Or set but one poor hopeless captive free, 
Even though we did it for an early grave ! 

Who slew the Egyptian scourger, when he smote 

The Hebrew slave, will hail thee in that land remote 



LIII. 

'' From all oppression ! — Onward, as I passed, 
Swinging my cane in meditative twirls, 

I saw a manly youth ; weeping he cast 
His eyes upon a group of smiling girls 

Floating among the flowers. — My memory ran 

Over these beautiful lines from GriJn, 



' THE TEAR OF MAN. 

* Maiden, didst thou see me weeping ? 

Lo ! the tear of woman seems 
Like the crystal dew of Heaven, 

That in blooming flower cup gleams. 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 149 

Be it wept by night so gloomy, 

Be it brought by morning red ; 
Still the flower the dew refreshes, 

And revived she lifts her head. 
But the tear of man resembleth 

Amber that in Oriens grows ; 
Deeply in the tree's heart hidden 

Seldom only gushing flows. 
Through the rind e'en to the marrow 

Inward must thou thrust the tap ; 
Then so golden, pure and limpid 

Trickles forth the noble sap. 
Soon indeed is drained the fountain, 

And the tree grows green again ; 
And full many a spring-time greets it ; 

But the cut, the wounds remain. 
Maiden, in thy memory fastened 

Keep the Oriens' wondrous tree ; 
Maiden, keep in memory cherished 

Him thou weeping once didst see.' 



150 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV 

LIV. 

" Already seemed the hemlock grove to call 

Me with its whispering voice — when lo ! a form 

As of a youthful widow, fair and tall, 

Moves in the shade, like angels in the storm ! 

Thoughtful she walked ; I hastened to embrace 

An opportunity to cheer her drooping face : 

LV. 

" ' 'T is, Madam, sweet to roam alone above 
The graves of those who have departed ! ' — She 

Replied ; "t is sweeter far with those we love, 
While living in a sweet community 

Of thought and action and of blended will, 

To thread the crowded hall, or social circle fill : 

LVI. 

" 'I love the voice of children better far, 
Than all that poets sing of hills and vales, 

Of birds, whose warblings fill th' ambrosial air 
With their " delirious " notes ! — I like no tales ; 

Reality has ever seemed to me 

Far more poetic than all written poetry!' 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 151 

LVII. 

'' ' It is,' I said, ' but natural that those. 

Who are themselves the poetry of life. 
Should not delight in poetry : the rose 

Never composes songs : — a beautiful wife 
And husband ; ' — here her tears began to start ; 
Alas ! I feared that I had touched her near the heart. 

LVITI. 

"I left her, with a sigh, and downward bent 
My footsteps to Mount Auburn's deepest dell 

And loveliest pond, beneath the steep ascent 
To ' Harvard Hill ;' I own I love it well. 

For there I feel as one, who stands between 

Two worlds, where only Heaven's blue vault towers up 
between ! 

LIX. 

"I sat me on the grassy brink, to list 
The hum of insects and the rustling oak ; 

To view the darting water-bugs, that twist 
Among the lily-pads ; or hear the croak 

Of wary turtle, or of pensive frog ! — 

'T was there I saw, and thus addressed a Polliwog : 



152 CHILD E HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 



PART I. 

' Dweller in the watery bog ! 
Embryo-prototypic frog I 
Waggling, wiggling polliwog ! 

Wiggle waggle! waggle wiggle! 

' Like a comet in the skies, 
Or the lash of maiden's eyes, 
Still thy waggling taillet flies, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' Restless as the waving ocean, 
Sportive as a baby's notion. 
Still thou keepest thy waddling motion, 
Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' Like a cornfield, when it rustles, 
Or the shake of gowns and bustles 
Still thou pliest thy dorsal muscles. 
Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' As an hum-bird on the wing. 
As two lovers in a swing, 
So thou doest the self-same thing, 
Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 153 

' What though void of father, mother, 
Sister, cousin, friend or brother. 
Still thou mov'st this way and th' other, 
Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' Like a cow, when flies are eating 
Her, or females' fans at meeting, 
Ceaseless, ceaseless is the beating, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! ' 



PART II. 

' Thou hast taught me, what a lesson ! 
That like thee, I, too, must press on 
While my bones retain their flesh on, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

* " Lives of great men all remind us " 
That's the way to leave behind us 
Wakes by which the world will find us, 
Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 



154 CHILDE HARVARD [cANTO IV, 

^ What is life, or what is glory 1 
Mortal, 'tis the wag ling story: 
Wiggling till our locks are hoary, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' I have seen the world, and round it 
Journeyed much, and still have found it 
All the same, wherever I sound it, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' He, who waggles most, will surely 
Scull his boat the most securely 
To the port, and all by purely, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' That's the way to win the graces 
Of fair forms and beauteous faces, — 
Wealth and honor and high places, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle! 

* That's the way to stand in College 

High in " marks," and want of knowledge ! 

That's the way for youth and all age. 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 155 

' Man was waggled into being ; 
Waggling still his years are fleeing, 
Day and night alternate seeing, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! ' 



PART III. 

' Oh 1 thou glorious waggling tadpole ! 
Thou hast taught my dark and sad soul 
Sweeter lessons than a glad bowl, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

* Whaillet of the watery bog ! 
Waggling soon will make thee a frog, 
Croaking on some slumbering log, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

*JOnce thou wast a spawning egg ; 
Waggling brought thee tail and head ; 
Waggling soon will start a leg, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 



156 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

' Silence thou hast never broken ; 
Croak nor peep hast never spoken ; 
Waggling is the only token, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

* Waggling with thy ceaseless care, 
Thou shalt breathe the upper air, 
Green-frock'd, glittering, mudless fair, 
Wiggle waggle 1 waggle wiggle ! ' 



PART lY. 

* Typical of God's creation, 

In thy three-fold transformation 
Man prefigured marks his station. 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

* First an embryo, infant man, — 
Onward, like a caravan. 
Wiggling up from plan to plan. 

Wiggle waggle! waggle wiggle ! 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 157 

' On he soars, till lost to vision 
Earth recedes, and fields Elysian 
Into his soul's eyes make incision ! 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

* Man is but a polliwog, — 
Changed by death into the frog, 
Croaking on eternity's log ! 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' Thou art small, but there are smaller 
Things than thee ; — the skies are taller 
Than the domes of tyrants all are ; 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle 1 

' What they are compared to thee. 
Thou 'rt to animalculae 
Waggling in a drop of tea ! 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' Thou perchance dost look on them 
With a proud significant " hem ! " 
Sputtering, waggling to condemn ! 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 



158 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

' As a drop is to the sea, 
Time is to Eteraity ; — 
Time and drops are all that be, 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' Parts compose the mighty whole ; 
Atoms make the planets that roll ; — 
Smallest, greatest is the soul ! 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

* Each performs his part allotted ; 
Leopards always will be spotted, 
Wise be wise, and sots be sotted I 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! 

' Angel, man, and polliwog ; 

Heav'n and earth and watery bog, — 

All are waggling and agog ! 

Wiggle waggle ! waggle wiggle ! ' 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 159 

LX. 

" 'T was nearly sunset; when, like Moses coming 
From Sinai's top, behold, my mutual friend 

Descending from the hill ! His lips were humming 
Some rhapsody, how day and evening blend 

In their diurnal salutation ; and, 

Before my tongue could speak, he held me by the hand. 

LXI. 

" ' This is a soul-like puddle ! it doth seem,' 
He said, 'to bear me back to those young days, 

When, livelier than the spirit of a dream, 
I and my little sister played our plays 

Around a pond like this ! — Alas, she died ! — 

While yet a boy, 't was thus my youthful numbers tried 

' THE PASTURE POND.' 

'Oft, half way up the pasture hill, 

Above my boyhood's home, 
To thee, sweet pond, — I see thee still, — 

My youthful feet would roam. 
How gladly did I hail the spring, 

When winter's snows were gone, — 
The cheerful spring that used to bring 

The grass upon the lawn ! 



160 CHJLDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

* And when the gentle violet, 

Or mountain rockerill, 
Did first appear, at opening year. 

Upon the pasture hill ; 
How oft did we with merry glee, 

Myself and sister fond. 
Together stray, and wend our way 

Up to the pasture pond. 

' Alas ! no more upon the shore 

Her little feet shall stray : 
She has gone to rest among the blest, 

No more on earth to play : 
But still I deem, or fondly dream, 

I wander with her yet, 
For scenes like those, till life shall close, 

I never can forget. 

' A spreading beach and lofty oak 

Stood on the western side, 
Whilst high above, the maple grove 

Reflected on the tide : 
Here first the yellow cowslip sprang, 

And dandelions grew; 
There first to sing advent of spring. 

Was heard the shrill cuckoo. 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 161 

* 'T was here the lambkins skipped and played' 

Upon the grassy brink ; 
And from the grove, the looing drove 

At noonday came to drink ; 
Nor soon did we forgive the steer, 

That pushed our cosset in — 
The roguish steer — he paid full dear 

For this unpardoned sin ! 

* We drew the frighted struggler out. 

Upon the sunny shore ; 
His fleece was wet, — our little pet 

Ne'er saw such times before ! — 
Here 'neath the shade our seats were made, 

For study, rest, or play ; 
And oft was spent in merriment 

The live-long summer day. 

' Here first I launched my little fleet; — 

How proud was I to see 
The paper sails stretch to the gales, 

And bound above the sea ! 
A sturdy acorn held command, 

The smaller ones obeyed, 
And grains of sand, when come to land, 

The voyager's passage paid. 
11 



162 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV, 

' Not far above, and near the grove 

A grotto faced the south ; 
Deep in whose side did open wide 

A cavern's awful mouth ; 
Where once the she wolf hid her young, 

Or black bear made his den, 
In times of yore, long, long before 

The woods were cleared by men. 

* But yet we thought the cavern fraught 

With horrid monsters still, 
Which kept at bay, when we would stray, 

Too far around the hill. 
Yet thoughts like these were wont to please 

Our youthful fancies fond, 
And doubly dear did make appear 

To us, the Pasture Pond.' 

LXII. 

" 'T is sweet, my friend," I said, " we early strung 
Our harps melodious; but methinks I see 

Here, in thy hand, a new-born strain unsung 
Save by the great composer." — *' It may be. 

My friend," he said, " that thou wilt deem me wild : — 

In Heaven the scene; a Mother's Meeting with her Child 



( ANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 1G3 

LXIII. 

'* Our spirits are like angels, and endowed 
With attributes. 'The New Jerusalem' 

Hath its locality. The vasty crowd 

Of constellations, — Heaven enfoldeth them, 

Even as the atmosphere enfolds the globe : — 

Creation is the body ; Heav'n th' encircling robe ! 

LXIV. 

" And when the spirits of the just have gone 
To that celestial home ; 't is sweet employ 

To wait, betimes, upon that unseen bourne, 
Hailing new-coming souls with hymns of joy. — 

My pencil hath but sketched a scene like this ; 

A Daughter greets a Mother on the shores of Bliss. 

DAUGHTER. 

' My mother ! is it thou ? O, welcome to 
This boundless world of joys ! We once again, — 
Even as thy lips prophetic told me dying, — 
Have met I O, kiss ! O clasp me yet anew! 
Thou art my mother still, and, glorious thought, 
Shalt be forever ! ' 



164 CIIILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

MOTHER. 

* Welcome ! my sweet daughter, 
Welcome, as when from cradled slumber waking, 
I fondly strained thee to my breast, and thou 
With smiling eyes didst raise thy baby arms 
And place them round my neck, — so welcome now! — 
Oh ! where are we, my daughter ? — 'Tis a glorious 
And most celestial spot ! And why art thou 
Untended and alone ? ' 

DAUGHTER. 

' Repose we first 
On yonder golden couch, — not earthly gold, 
But far more precious than the diamond, pearl. 
And all the gems of earth, and cushioned over 
With living velvet, softer than the down 
Upon young angels' wings — beneath the shade 
Of that celestial tree, whose fragrant blossoms 
Of heavenly dyes perfume the balmy breath 
Of the ethereal winds, — while from the fountain 
Of nectar and of love, that gushes up 
Hard by the roots, and forms a gurgling rivulet, 
I bring thee first the drink of angels, — then 
Will we discourse.' 



;ANT0 TV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 165 



MOTHER. 



* My daughter, angel, guide, 
How gladly will my footsteps wend their way 
Whither thou would'st lead, albeit I long to hear. 
Impatient of delay.' {They glide along.) 



DAUGHTER. 

' Behold ! already, — 
So swift and easy glide celestial forms, — 
We have reached the shade ! — Repose thee, while I bring 
A golden goblet from the nectar spring.' (Goes.) 

MOTHER. 

' Oh ! where am I ? — and in what blissful world ? — 
Glorious and most unutterable delights ! 
Beatitude amazingly mysterious ! — 
Or am I dreaming? — 'T is a lovely dream ! 
Fain would I dream forever ! — How my senses 
Swim ! Ah ! it is no dream ; no mortal vision, — 
Even those by rapt and holy Prophets seen, — 
Was filled, like this, with strange realities, 
And yet so fanciful ! — The air is full 
Of music stealing through the inmost soul, 



166 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

Along its trembling chords ; and every breeze 
Floats redolent of most delightful odors, 
Such as celestial groves alone emit : 
And I am wafted, as on seas of bliss; — 
And yet I move not ! — Pillowed on a couch 
Than this more splendid and magnificent 
" King Solomon, in all his glory " never 
Reposed ! — She comes, my daughter ! ' 

DAUGHTER. 

* Mother, drink : 
For this it was, I tarried here alone, — 
For the recording angel's trumpet spoke it 
That thou wast journeying to the realms of bliss, — 
To meet thee, first of all the heavenly host. 
And bid thee, welcome ! ' 



MOTHER. 

' By what magical power 
Am I transported hither ? — But an hour 
Ago, and I dwelt in an humbler world, 
Far different. 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 167 



DAUGHTER 



Didst fall asleep, rny mother 



MOTHER, 



' Weeping around me stood the friends I loved ; 
Mine eyelids seemed to close ; my breath oozed out, 
And, wrapt up in a visionary slumber, 
I dreamed, that I was flying, and that thou 
Wast with me. — Is it so ? ' 



DAUGHTER 



' 'T is ever thus ; 
For Heaven to holy souls is a great magnet. 
Which, when the coils of flesh are shaken off, 
Draws and conducts the spirit onward, through 
The unfathomable seas of ether, home : — 
We fall asleep, — we dream, — we wake in Heaven 
'T was here I found myself encircled by 
A band of cherub sisters, smiling, fanning 
Me with their delicate wino;s.' 



MOTHER. 



Thou, too, hast wings ! ' 



168 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 



DAUGHTER. 



* And thou ; wilt try them ? Listen ! lo ! they come 
Dost hear ? — Even now, beyond the diamond arch, 
For thee and for thy safe approach, the choir 
Of cherubim and seraphim, the harp 
Of gold, the trumpet, sackbut and the dulcimer. 
And instruments as yet to thee unknown. 
With voices mingling, — swell the buoyant air. 
And echo through the groves and over the lake 
Whose crystal waters, beyond the reach of vision. 
In gentle ripplings dance upon the strand 
Of orient pearls, of diamonds and of gold ; — 
Where oft I with my cherub sisters sport 
Weaving the mystic dance upon the shore, 
Or laving in the crystal waters, or 
Perchance bound over the waves in crystal skiffs 
Transparent as the diamond, and bedecked 
With gems and rubies, stones of every hue 
Enwrought in various shapes fantastical 
By angel hands ; while like the rainbow arch, — 
Which oft on earth thou pointedst out to me 
And told me what its wondrous beauties meant, — 
Oar wafting sail attached toivory mast, 
Expanding stretches to the wooing gale, 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 169 

And ever and anon as in the air 

The canvass shifts, in sweet succession, come 

And go new images of strange device; 

While wafted thus we joy aloud to chant 

Melodious songs, or hang upon the lips 

Of our instructor, as he guides the skiff, 

And all the while unfolds to us amazed 

New glories and imparts instruction sweet ! — 

Lo ! nearer and more near, they come ! ' 

MOTHER. 

'Oh! Heaven 
Has now begun ! I hear the blissful sound 
Delectable ! O, point me now to Him 
Who died, that I might taste of joy like this. 
My Saviour and my King; that I may bow 
And worship at his feet.' 

DAUGHTER. 

* Behold ! he comes ! 
To guide thee thither let the task be mine; 
For once, unto the Shepherd of the fold 
The lambkin shall its parent lead.' 
12 



170 CHILDE HARVARD. [CANTO IV. 

LXV. 

" Ere this the sun had set; the gate was closed ! 

A thunder storm was gathering in the sky. 
Homeward we hurried, but the clouds imposed 

On us ' no drizzling shower ! ' — Now wild and high 
The spirits of the tempest moved among 
The tree-tops, and the bellowing thunders found a tongue ! 

LXVI. 

" There was a new-made tomb, wherein man never 
Had lain, it was the fairest in ' Mount Auburn ; ' 

Its door unhinged. By those who sleep forever 
In their long home, by skeleton and 'jawbone,' 

We pass the night ! — The awful thunders boom ! 

Like goblins, lightnings dance, and light the ghastly tomb ! " 

LXVII. 

The Faculty arose, in mutual wonder ! 

Already had they waited long; the child 
Had not arrived ; — when suddenly the thunder 

Of omnibus is heard ! — They stand in wild 
Expectancy. — With trembling step in presses 
An Under College Officer, — and thus addresses : 



CANTO IV.] CHILDE HARVARD. 171 

LXVIII. 

" Yes, Sirs ! the child bees very bad, this night ! 

She could not come at-all at-all ! — he took 
Five pound of pills ! — he did ! — Oh ! 't was a sight 

To see it crying-like, and hear him look 
So very ill ! poor child ! — I hope the mother 
Of it, — bad luck to her ! — won't under-the-pump another! " 

LXIX. 

" Gentlemen of the Faculty, let us 

Retire; " with gentle tones the reader said ; 

"The child unbrought, 'tis useless to discuss : — 
Let not our wives, like widows, press the bed. 

While we, with idle words, beguile the night ! " — 

He said. Their homeward motions answered, " it is right." 

LXX. 

Our five-weeks' sport abruptly finds its close. 
Contracted by the great contractor, time ; 

My muse is weary, and she needs repose. — 

Sweet maid ! Ere long a journey more sublime 

We'll take, perchance ! — Who knows, but we may give 

This book one canto more, with notes illustrative ! 



172 CHILDE HARVARD. [cANTO IV. 

NOTE TO THE GENTLE READER. 

You may be 
Astonished at the unfinished end of this 
Romance : it is not strange ; but those, who see — 
And there are many learned vi^itnesses — 
What way romances end in Cambridge, can 
Swear that mine is a perfect model of their plan. 



ALL OF IT. 



ERRATA. 
Page 88, line 6, instead of " and in sin," read, and sin. 
" IIG, " 7, instead of " where those," read, where were those. 
" 143, " 12, instead of "floweu's," read, flowers'. 



a^-) 



